


Age of Kings

by disorientedscribbler



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Being an Idiot, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Cunnilingus, Depression, Emotional Constipation, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Drama, First Time Blow Jobs, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Bond Shenanigans, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pregnant Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, awkward space virgins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 133,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disorientedscribbler/pseuds/disorientedscribbler
Summary: “The past is messier than it looks in the history books. The story we tell looking backward already has an ending. All we have to do is connect the dots in a way that leads up to it. The present has no ending. The story is up for grabs.”~Pisces Horoscope for October 2, 2018Rey and Ben Solo time-travel after the events of TLJ to the prequel era.





	1. dream of maybe waking up someday and wanting you less than i do (this is a dream though. it’s never going to come true)

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this chapter are retellings of scenes from Revenge of the Sith, for that I am sorry. I tried to gloss over what parts of that I could without being confusing. I hope it worked. 
> 
> Also, this work is not beta'd so let me know if you notice any deficiencies.
> 
> Work title is from the song 'Age of Kings' by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'Night Light' by The Mountain Goats

Rey’s days were tense. Between the hiding and the fighting, the training and the surviving, Rey was perpetually stressed and frustrated. She was either of the opinion that she was giving her all to the Resistance or that she wasn't doing enough. There was no balance between these states.

Most days had the added stress of the bond; of she and Kylo Ren studiously ignoring each other as they went about their business.

Night time was different. The planet they were hiding on had longer days than she was used to so, when the sun finally went down, Rey fell gratefully onto her bunk on the Falcon and slept hard.

Rey dreamt of Ben, more often than not. She tried not to feel guilty about the dreams. They weren't visions, after all. Just nonsense. She and Ben swimming through the sands of Jakku. She and Ben racing through the halls of Starkiller Base, lost but together, hand in hand. She and he laying together on her bunk in the Falcon, lights so low she could just make out the plains of his pale face, only a breath away from touching.

Nonsense. But she enjoyed it. Woke up with a smile only to poke at the bond and feel it ache; like biting down on a sore tooth.

That night-- _the_ night--she dreamt of a dark nothingness and distant stars and faint voices and bridges. She was alone and on the edges of panic but she crossed a bridge and she wasn't. Ben was there. Waiting? He stood in front of an open door. She didn't know where it led but it was either go through or wait to wake up. But this was a dream and Rey did enough waiting when she was awake. She didn't know who reached first or who took the first step. Just that they were going through the door hand-in-hand.

* * *

“Intruder! Inform Darth Tyranas!”

Rey woke with a start in a terrible situation. She was sitting on the floor of what appeared to be a supply room, staring up the barrel of a blaster. A blaster held by an outdated battle droid? She almost felt sorry for destroying an antique but she reached for her lightsaber anyway--it wasn't there.

In fact, she was wearing the cutoff pants and loose shirt she’d fallen asleep in. Before she could process what was happening, or _how_ , a familiar red lightsaber ignited and dispatched the droid. She watched it fall and found herself looking at an unfamiliar pair of bare feet.

“Ben, you’re barefoot.”

She could feel him now that she wasn’t in immediate danger. His presence in the Force a consistent roil. Like a mounting storm.

“Rey,” his voice sounded strained. “You’ve got no pants on.”

Rey glared up at him, indignant. “I do! They’re just short. They’re for sleeping.”

Alright, so maybe they were so short that the baggy shirt almost covered them. So Ben probably couldn’t tell they were there from his vantage point. Him being so tall and her sitting on the floor. Rey stood and tried to adjust her clothing so her shorts would be noticable. “See?”

“You were sleeping?” Ben asked, pointedly not acknowledging her short clad--but still mostly bare--legs. “I was meditating.  How did we get here?”

A thought occurred to Rey as Ben began looking around.  “Is this a Force Bond thing or are we both actually here?”

Ben appeared to think about this. Rey wanted to reach out and grab his hand, like they had in her dream. She didn’t.

“Well,” Ben said at length. “That droid saw you. But my lightsaber cut it. So, probably.  Usually I can’t see your surroundings, let alone act on them.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t have a problem hearing it.”

“Neither did I.”

“Ok, now to find out where we are.”

“We need to move anyway,” Ben conceded.  “That droid told someone we were here.”

They looked--quickly--but found no boots in the supply room. No clothing of any kind. A smattering of toiletries, a few medical supplies, but mostly droid parts. Rey took the blaster but nothing else.

They ran into no one in the corridor. In fact, it was eerily silent.

“That's odd," Ben mused, looking around with a critical eye. "This looks like  a Providence-class Dreadnought. They are Clone Wars era.”

“So was the droid. Someone must collect antiques.”

“A rogue archaeologist, maybe?”

Rey looked at him skeptically.  “Seriously, Ben?”

“There are stories,” he said defensively. “Regardless, we need to find a way out of here.”

They picked a direction and began walking to no avail. They found plenty of parts for droids to hook in but no terminals for sentients.

Somewhere along the way Rey had began to shiver. Her attire was well suited to a humid climate in the height of summer but on what appeared to be a ship, most likely in space? Not so much.

She glanced at Ben to see if he was similarly affected. He didn’t look good. Not the worst she’d seen him--she thought of him lying in the snow with his face slashed open and shivered--but definitely not his best. There were dark circles under his eyes and a wan color to his skin. She wondered absently if he was coming down with something.

Although, she noticed as she stared that his jaw looked tense, as though he were clenching it. He could be going through emotional distress. After all, it had barely been six months since...

She realized she was staring and wrenched her gaze away. Eyes front.

“Ben,” she finally spoke, being unable to shiver in silence any longer. “Can you feel any sentients on the ship? Because it seems to me it’s fitted for droids.” Rey would look herself but the cold made it difficult to focus. He was barefoot too but at least he was fully clothed.

“There’s someone close,” he promised, glancing down at her with a concerned frown. “I’ll find you something to put on.”

“I’m fine,” she lied between clacking teeth. “Let's’ just get out of here.”

So Ben led the way to the nearest sentient.

* * *

They entered a large room with a viewport. On a ship, in space: confirmed. Also, amidst a battle.  

Ben could feel the sentient nearby but no one was visible. Had the crew already abandoned ship?

Rey walked toward the viewport, awed. Ben followed her, not wanting to get seperated. She didn’t seem to mind being stranded here with him, for now. Perhaps it was the shock or she hadn’t yet grasped the complexity of their situation. He knew he didn’t understand what was going on. Regardless, he had a bad feeling, deep in his gut. It was best for them to stay together, that much he knew; had known well before this night.

A chair turned on the walkway in front of them. In it sat a human man with white hair, his hands were bound to the chair.

“You are not the Jedi.” The man said, clearly expecting someone else.

“Um,” Rey glanced at Ben and he could feel the uncertainty coming off her. “We’re a bit turned around.” she said, vaguely. “Do you need help?”

Of course she’d offer to help.

 _This feels like a trap,_  Ben sent to her through their bond. The first time he had chosen to utilize it.

It didn't seem to bother her. _But not for us,_ she sent back.

“W-well, I--” The man stuttered, bewildered.

“Step away from the Chancellor!”

Rey and Ben both turned. Through a different door two more human men were entering the room. Both wore long robes and carried lightsabers. Jedi.

“Are you the one who tied up this poor old man?” Rey yelled, raising her blaster.

“Don’t play games, Separatist!” The man in the black robes yelled back, coming into the room, his companion trailing behind him.

“Are you alright, Chancellor?” The other man asked the man in the chair.

“Count Dooku,” the old man said, calmly.

They all turned to see what he was looking at. Yet another human male stood on the balcony, flanked by two large security droids.

“This time we’ll do it together,” The auburn haired Jedi told the other Jedi.

“I was going to say that.”

Count Dooku somersaulted off the balcony.

Rey turned to Ben, stunned. “How the f--”

“He’s a Master,” Ben said, reaching for his lightsaber. “Shoot the droids...if you can.”

“I’m a good shot,” Rey groused, taking aim.

“Yet you’ve still not managed to shoot me,” Ben smirked. He could feel Rey roll her eyes.

“Get help.” The old man on the chair told the auburn haired Jedi. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

“A Sith Lord?” Rey asked, momentarily losing focus.

The auburn haired Jedi acknowledged them for the first time. “My dear,” he called Rey with a cheeky grin. “Sith Lords are our speciality.”

“It’s Rey.” she informed him, flatly.

“Stand clear, please,” Count Dooku said to Rey and Ben, advancing on the Jedi. “We wouldn’t want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor.”  

In answer Rey blasted the security droids with ease.

“You insolent girl,” he spat. “This need not concern you.”

“You won’t get away this time, Dooku.” The Jedi told him as they ignited two blue blades.

Dooku and the Jedi began fighting and Ben could see he had been correct, this Sith Lord was a Master. His dueling form was unparallelled, taking on two opponents at once with ease.

“The two of you should get away while that villian is distracted by the Jedi.” The Chancellor said. “You are shaking like a leaf, my dear.”

“It’s cold and it’s Rey. I’ve said that.”

Rey shot at Count Dooku who only just managed to dodge. While Ben had been distracted the Count had managed to pin one Jedi below fallen debris and now he flung the other away from him in anger.

“I will not tolerate interference!” Dooku sprinted toward Rey. Ben could feel the intent to cut her down.

He ignited his saber with a stomp, widening his stance and blocking Dooku’s path to Rey.

Ben heard several gasps. He could see the confusion in Count Dooku’s eyes, the calculation.

Ben advanced quick and swung wide. Dooku blocked--as Ben knew he would, form II being known for superiority in lightsaber-to-lightsaber combat--but Ben is more powerful, more aggressive than the Jedi were and Dooku loses ground. So Ben hit him. The way neither of his Masters were able to train out of him. The way he was taught by Han.

A left hook sent Count Dooku stumbling, which allows Ben to bring his saber up on his right side. Dooku doesn’t block this time.

“Ben!” Rey chastised.

He glanced around. One Jedi has let the Chancolor out of his chair and they stand gaping at one end of the room. Rey is at the other, crouching beside the unconscious Jedi. She’s removed the debris.

“Did you _have_ to kill him?”

Ben shrugged because he honestly hadn't considered  _not_ killing Count Dooku. He disengaged his lightsaber.

Rey pursed her lips. Disappointed in him.

“You didn’t have to defend me.”

“You were unarmed.”

“I have a blaster.”

“ _Everyone_ knew you had a blaster. You were shooting like they’d come to collect debts you couldn’t pay.”

“ _You_ asked me to shoot the droids.”

“Not the Sith Lord!” Ben turned to the conscious Jedi in the black robes. “Would _you_ have killed him?”

The Jedi shrugged but the Chancellor nodded.

“Who are you?” The Chancellor asked.

“We don’t have time for this,” The Jedi said, making his way to Rey and his companion. “We have to get off this ship.”

“Leave him. Anakin, there’s no time.”

“Leave him?” Rey said, staring at the Chancellor in disbelief. “For Forces sake, he’s fine.”

“His fate will be the same as ours,” the Jedi declared, carrying the other on his back.

The Jedi and the Chancellor climb the stair, exiting where Count Dooku entered.

Rey looked to Ben.

“Do you think his boots will fit you?” She asked, nodding to the body of Count Dooku.

Ben looked. They were nice boots...

Ben and Rey follow the Jedi shortly after. He ended up leaving the boots--they didn’t fit--but Rey had acquired a lightsaber and a soft brown robe was draped comfortably over her shoulders.


	2. in the lost age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song "Age of Kings" by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> The first part of RoTS (while Anakin and Obi-Wan are on the Invisible Hand) is narrated by Rey, who goes through the events very quickly. I hope it's not confusing. If it is, let me know, I'll try to rework it for readability. Remember, this story isn't beta'd. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

Anakin was almost sure the strangers wouldn’t follow. He was honestly a little relieved to think so; they were unknown agents and although it should have been his responsibility to investigate their presence on a Separatist ship, he was in a bit of a tight spot. Escorting the Chancellor to safety while holding onto an unconscious Obi-Wan was difficult enough without worrying about--

“Wait for us!”

Force help him. This was not his day.

The girl jogged to catch up to them, her forbidding companion followed, unhurried. He was the one who had Anakin on edge. When he’d fought Dooku his presence in the Force was like a gathering storm. And his red saber--that was something else altogether.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” Anakin said, not slowing down.

She had ditched the blaster, unfortunately. He couldn’t gauge her exact age as her clothing--a long brown robe which was cinched with an ill-fitting black leather belt--swallowed her whole frame and gave her the appearance of a child wearing an adults' clothes.

Also...she hadn’t been wearing that a moment ago.

“Is that Obi-Wan’s robe?!” Anakin stopped to stare at this affront in disbelief. He felt the Chancellor stumble into Obi-Wan at the abrupt halt. Great, he was going to unnecessarily bruise his master.   

The girl shrugged, unbothered. “I’m not sure whose it is. I picked it up off the floor.”

Anakin frowned and opened his mouth to say something--he didn’t know what, maybe yell at her for stealing?--when the other man spoke.

“She’s cold. If it’s that important to you, she can return it later. But, for now, she keeps it.”

Anakin glanced at him. He wasn’t _that much_ taller than Anakin, why did he seem so large? Regardless, his tone brokered no disagreement. He was also holding that strange lightsaber loosely in his hand. Anakin thought it had been attached to a belt before...he was also barefoot…

Padme sometimes said something about choosing one's battles. Anakin had always chosen all of them. This time he hadn't a clue where to start fighting. So...

They kept walking.

“So, I’m Rey,” the girl had to hold up the hem of Obi-Wan’s robe keep pace without tripping. “That’s Ben,” she said gesturing to her personal storm cloud.  

Anakin wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, nor did he think this was the time, but they had helped with Dooku by taking out those security droids, even if Anakin was sure he and Obi-Wan could have taken Dooku on without their help.

“This,” he shrugged Obi-Wan, “Is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. We are both Generals in the Grand Army of the Republic.”

He saw, in the corner of his eye, Rey mouth a comical ‘oh’ and her eyes widen in surprise. “Pleasure,” she said before falling back.

“I am Chancellor Palpatine, my dear.” Anakin heard the Chancellor introduce himself.

“Ah...so you are.”

She fell quiet and the next time Anakin glanced back he noticed that she had fallen back into step with her storm cloud, Ben.

* * *

Rey considered herself to be smart. Because she was. However, Rey understood that she was not educated. Because she wasn’t.

There was no formal education on Jakku. Nothing even remotely similar to the stuff Poe would describe in some of his rambling stories--flight school and general schooling and university and trade school and on and on.

Ben was educated, although he didn’t talk about it, but Luke’s Jedi school--as she’d seen it structured in his memories--had been a form of education. Less formal than Poe’s stories but more so than her experience.

Rey was smart. She’d had to be to simply survive on Jakku but beyond that she’d taken care to train her own mind with the tasks she thought she’d need to know. She used what was available to her. It had been difficult. It had been dreadfully hard sometimes. But she’d done it and she considered her personal education something to be proud of.

Rey had taught herself numbers and how to wield them. She taught herself how to read. She’d learnt the languages around Niima Outpost. She’d taught herself how to pilot. Scavenging had taught her mechanics.

She had not learnt much history. Never thought she’d have a need for the names and deeds of bygone persons. However, Rey had watched a lot of scavenged footage from the terminals in the downed ships of Jakku. It wasn’t of any value to Plutt but it had been nice to listen to human voices sometimes; when the loneliness ate at her.

Those had contained fragments of a skewed history--Leia had helped her realize that. Those ships on Jakku, the people on those recording, their crisp accents; they had all been Imperial.

Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t a name that Rey recognized.

Skywalker, she knew, but not Anakin.

Palpatine was a name Rey recognized.

* * *

Events moved quickly after that and there wasn’t much time for them to talk. Not that Ben seemed inclined to discuss. He kept mouth and his mind firmly shut.

It was like running with Ben through one of her nonsense dreams. Path is blocked: find an alternative path. Ground tilts one way and then the other: forcing herself to reorient several times. Thinking fast to save herself from being crushed by an elevator. Being trapped. Cameo appearance by a familiar friend (R2!) and being taken to the second most horrid being she had ever seen (Snoke being a clear winner of most horrid).

By the time the ship was falling Rey was more than ready to wake up.

She didn’t kick up a fuss when Anakin took the helm of the cruiser because, honestly she’d had her fill of excitement. It was just too much.

Anakin and Obi-Wan treated it as business as usual. Shooting each other quips and knowing looks. Anakin even tried to sass the giant coughing droid general. Rey was a bit amazed by their tenacity and also a bit weary of it.

The landing was terribly rocky but the five of them came through it alive.

“Another happy landing,” Obi-Wan said, running his hand through his hair as Anakin shot him a look.

Rey wanted to smack him.

They were soon accosted by emergency officials and escorted out of the burning heap of former ship and onto a landing strip on an unfamiliar planet.

“Excuse me, but where are we?” Rey asked the medical droid who was checking her pupils for signs of a concussion.

“Current planet designated: Coruscant. Is the patient experiencing confusion?”

_Yes._

“No, I’ve just never been here before.”

When the droid cleared her she looked around for Ben but didn't spot him. She could feel his presence not too far from her, but before she could find him she came across Obi-Wan talking to another human male in Jedi robes. This Jedi was bald with brown skin. He didn't look happy.

“--thought perhaps they were kidnapped, you see.” Rey heard Obi-Wan saying as she crept by, thankful for the chaos of the tarmac to blend into.

“What made you think that?”

“Well, Mace, neither of them are wearing shoes.”

“They could be Separatist spies.”

“With no shoes?” Obi-Wan sounded affronted.

She found Ben staring down at a cheerful Palpatine while Anakin scowled to the side of them. Rey stopped a ways off to listen.

“--Don’t honestly see the point of an inquiry, my boy,” Palpatine was saying, looking between Anakin and Ben. “Surely, the Jedi Council understands that this good man was an asset to you and General Kenobi on this day.”

“I apologize Chancellor but one can never be too cautious in wartime. The Masters think this might be an internal matter. Therefore, it is imperative that he and his partner be taken to the Temple for questioning.”

“Internal?! To the Jedi? How so?”

Palpatine looked to Ben, as though he was going to elaborate. Ben said nothing, only stared on impassively.

Anakin answered for him. “Ben carries a lightsaber and managed to defeat Count Dooku single handedly. He could be a rogue Jedi.”

Palpatine scoffed. “Anakin, son, you do understand how ridiculous that sounds.”

“I’m sorry. Chancellor, but it’s protocol.” He did sound incredibly sorry. Rey wasn’t sure what it was Palpatine wanted with Ben but she felt sorry Anakin was caught in the middle.

“You sound like that foolish droid of Amidala’s,” Palpatine dismissed him and Anakin visibly deflated.

“You are no Jedi,” this Palpatine said to Ben. “The Jedi do not carry red lightsabers. There is no precedent in the laws of the Republic that state you have to go with him. Certainly you would be much more comfortable accompanying me to the Senate Dome. You and I will have a nice chat and get this nasty business straightened up right away.”

Palpatine’s words were like ice through Rey’s veins. She wasn’t sure about the reason behind the dread but she knew that the Force was trying to tell her that Ben going with Palpatine was a very bad idea.

Rey stepped forward, ready to intervene--needlessly so.

“I think not,” Ben replied. “You’ve yet to give me a good reason to go with you.”

Palpatine’s expression soured.

Anakin looked mortified. “You shouldn’t talk to the Chancellor like that.”

Ben, for his part, was done. He had spotted Rey eavesdropping.

Palpatine noticed the direction of Ben’s gaze. Rey did not like the calculating look in his eyes. “What about you?” he asked, rounding on her. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have this taken care of? I would procure you proper clothing, of course. Perhaps a nice hotel room to rest, you look dead on your feet. What say you, my dear?”

He seemed a very kindly old man. His eyes were blue. Like Snoke’s had been.

“I’ve said: my name is Rey. You must not have been listening.”

Ben, at least, was pleased with her response. Palpatine looked utterly taken aback. Anakin, meanwhile, covered his face with a groan.

“If you’ll excuse us, Chancellor, we’ll be on the transport.” Ben didn’t wait to be excused before stepping forward and taking her elbow; leading her back the way she’d came.

“Ben,” Rey whispered when she felt they were far enough away from prying ears. “We are terribly far from home, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Ben sighed.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t figured out that much but his nervousness was contagious. “Do you know how far?”

“All evidence indicates that this is the Clone Wars. What we just experienced was the Battle for Coruscant.”

Rey did some quick math in her head. The Empire fell nearly thirty years ago and it had reigned for almost twenty years so…“That was fifty years ago.”

Ben nodded, grimly. They had reached the transport and stopped short. Obi-Wan and the Jedi he had called Mace sat inside, deep in conversation. Ben turned to her and leaned close.

“I think we’re in the end of it. Historically, Anakin Skywalker crash landed the star cruiser the _Invisible Hand_ over Coruscant a few months before the galactic Empire was declared and the fighting stopped.”

Rey ignored how his focus made her heart beat. She glanced back at Palpatine just to look away from Ben’s intense eyes for a moment. “So, he is the Emperor.”

“Yes.”

Which begged the question: “Should we kill him?”

Rey looked back just in time to see him swallow, his expression grim. “It’s more complicated than that...did Luke ever tell you about him?”

“No, why would he?”

Ben leaned closer to her, whispering his next words in her ear. She wished it was only his proximity that caused her to shiver.

“The Emperor was Darth Vader’s master. Palpatine is a Sith Lord.”

This time Rey was the one swallowing. She didn’t know much about real Sith Lords, but the stories were never pleasant. “Ok so...did the Force send us here to oust him? Are we supposed to change things? How do we go home?”

Ben leaned away from her--apparently done develging delicate information--and shrugged. “We do whatever it is we were sent here to do.”

Rey frowned, unimpressed. “That’s vague and unhelpful.”

Ben actually smirked. “The Jedi Order is alive and well,” he told her. “You had better get used to vague and unhelpful.”

“You’re honestly suggesting we go to the Jedi?! I thought that was a line you were feeding Palpatine.”

“Regardless of my personal feelings on Jedi they are the least likely to torture information about the future out of us. Besides...I’m not keen on apprenticing myself to another Dark Lord. That seems to be our only options. If we disappear, they’ll hunt us.”

“If that old man you killed was really his apprentice then you’re the reason he’s in the market for a new one,” Rey hissed.

“Something must have happened to Dooku anyway. Like I said, in a few months Palpatine will be the Emperor and he’ll have--”

“Darth Vader...so we have to keep Anakin Skywalker from falling.”

Ben gave her a skeptical look. “Why would the Force care about that?”

“Think about it, Ben,” Rey rolled her eyes. “The Force is at play here and it really likes your family. There is already a reality where he falls.”

“But why send us?”

Rey shrugged, stepping onto the transport. “I guess we’ll see.”


	3. the little bit of faith we once had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from the song 'New Zion' by The Mountain Goats

They dropped the Chancellor and Master Windu off at the Senate Dome. Usually, Anakin would have been the one giving the debriefing there while Obi-Wan handled the Council, but with the situation as it was, Mace--being the member of the Council--was going to attempt to talk down the Chancellor--who was very disappointed that the rogue Jedi was not accompanying him.

His insistence confused Anakin at first, but once he’d had time to think about it he supposed it was only natural. Chancellor Palpatine was, after all, a politician. Of course, he’d want to praise and pamper Count Dooku’s killer. A hero.

He’d called him a hero.

After Ben and Rey’s rude departure Anakin had tried to apologize for their behavior but Palpatine had simply waved him off.

“He may not be as charming as you, or your master, my boy. But it is undeniable that the galaxy owes him a great debt after today. That hero has brought the Republic one step closer to peace.”

High praise from one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy and Ben hadn’t even stayed to hear it. Even went so far as to spurn the Chancellor’s offering.

Anakin couldn’t have let them go with the Chancellor anyway but that was hardly the point.

Rey, for her part seemed...yeah.

His first inclination was to think of her as alright, comparatively, and move on to being irritated by Ben. But she _was_ a bit of a thief and she _had_ also been rude to the Chancellor. She was just pretty and cheerful so he was more inclined to overlook her lackluster first impression.

She was fairly endearing now, though as he watched her flit around the transport to gape out of every viewport, much to the trepidation of the piloting droid. She had clearly never been to Coruscant before.

Curious, Anakin reached out with the Force and brushed her mind.

This was, he realized quickly, impulsive and unwise. It wasn’t that he was met with unexpected resistance--she had no shields--so much as forcibly flung out.   

He hadn’t realized she was Force sensitive. He hadn’t thought she’d notice the contact at all, but she was and she had. And now she was staring at him instead of the sprawling cityscape.

So, inexplicably, was Ben. Although, it’d be more accurate to say that Ben was seething at him. A Jedi would have smacked him...verbally, as they tried not to get the hackles raised. He had broken conventional etiquette on a whim, after all. Some might go so far as to say it was an intrusion. Ben certainly thought so. Although, how he knew…

“What?” Rey asked, impatiently. She...she thought he’d been trying to get her attention. He could brush it off. Pretend like he hadn’t made a mistake, hadn’t been rude. But she was obviously a novice. She probably didn’t know she should be indignant; didn’t know any better. Inexperienced.

And that thought made Anakin feel more than a bit scummy.

“You’re Force sensitive.”

“So?” Rey asked.

“How could you know that, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, clearly having missed the entire exchange.

“He looked,” Ben accused with a snarl.

“How do _you_ know that?” Anakin asked him.

Ben, unfathomably, managed to look down his nose at Anakin while they were both sitting at opposite ends of the transport. “Don’t ignore the issue,” he said. “You’re the one just casually slipping into people’s minds.”

“I didn’t _slip in_!” Anakin was horrified. This whole day was terrible. “If anything I brushed against her and she pushed me!”

“Now you’re blaming her?”

“No I--”

“Stop this right now!” This was yelled by Rey, who had stood up in the isle of the transport and turned her scowl from Anakin to Ben and back. “Ben: stop being a hypocrite. Anakin: knock first.”

“Hypocrite?” Both Anakin and Ben said, with vastly different inflections.

“So he just slips into your head? That’s how he knew I was there?” Anakin asked Rey, aghast. What a violation!

Rey, it seemed, wasn’t having any more of this. She rounded on him and leveled him with a glare. “What goes on in my head is none of your business, Skywalker.”

Anakin ducked his head, contrite.

Rey sat back down. Closer to Ben than she had been earlier.

“My dear,” Obi-Wan’s voice cut across the ensuing silence, dripping with disapproval. “You need shields.”

 Rey turned to look at Obi-Wan. Anakin couldn’t see her face from where he sat but he supposed it wasn’t pleasant with how Obi-Wan’s face fell.

“The next person to call me ‘my dear’ gets walloped.”

* * *

Rey had never been to a planet such as Coruscant. As the transport took the four of them away from the wreckage of the _Invisible Hand_ she couldn’t keep herself form craning her neck every which way to take in the whole of her surroundings.

Even going so far as to hang out of the open doorway while airborne to look directly below. She held onto the railing tightly but even still, she was thankful for the familiar presence of Ben in the Force hovering near. Reassuring her that, if she did manage to tip over the side of the speeder (the way Obi-Wan seemed to think she would, if his squawk when he noticed her half hanging out was any indication), she would not make it to the indistinguishable surface of the planet before Ben could get a hold on her.

Having her fill of the dizzying chaos of Coruscanti sightseeing for the moment, Rey righted herself in the seat.

“First time on Coruscant?” Anakin asked, seeming a bit contrite after their initial exchange. His voice, when not thinned with stress, was pleasant.

Rey cringe and pushed the tangled mess the wind had made of her hair out of her eyes.

“First time on a Core world, honestly,” she answered self-consciously. She suddenly felt impossibly far from home. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind before she could dwell on it.

“It loses its allure within the first hour,” Anakin assured her, earning him an admonishment from Obi-Wan that Rey wasn’t quite sure she understood the reason for.

“Regardless,” Obi-Wan said, waiting for her to twist in her seat to face him so he could level her with a flat stare before continuing. “Please remain inside the shuttle for the duration of the trip.”

His voice was pleasant too, Rey decided. His accent was much like her own and that bolstered her, just a bit. Although, she had the sense that it rarely lost its weary edge.

She decided not to lean out of the transport, until they reached the Jedi Temple, where her restraint fled her. The Force near the Temple was better than she’d felt since arriving at Coruscant but it was still murky and soiled. Nothing like the clear and clarifying presence at the first Jedi Temple on Ahch-To.

“Young one, please,” Obi-Wan chided when he saw her over the side again. She leveled him with her own flat stare. “Rey,” he relented.

She didn’t understand his concern. Ben may have stayed quiet after she’d called him a hypocrite but his cautious Force presence was literally palpable enough to feel like his arm around her waist. He would not let her fall.

Sighing, Rey sat back down. “I didn’t expect it to be so big,” she mumbled by way of apology.

“Well, of course it’s big,” Obi-Wan sniffed as the droid landed the speeder with much more finesse than Anakin had the _Invisible Hand._ “The Temple is home to several thousand Jedi Masters, Knights, and Padawans.”

He said this, Rey noted, as if this were the _only_ temple. 

* * *

After departing the transport they weren’t given much time to take in their surroundings. Obi-Wan set a harried pace and would sigh anytime he caught Rey dawdling. There was simply too much to take in for Rey to actually process the scope of the Temple and Rey was really starting the feel the effects of her sleepless night. She was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

The Jedi brought them up to a room higher than any standing structure Rey had ever been in before. Ben looked unfazed but she could feel the roiling tension coming off of him through their bond. He might not be impressed by the architecture but he wasn’t unaffected by their presence here.

“The events today must have been trying for you both,” Obi-Wan started to say as he led them through a side door and into a cozy waiting room. “I understand that you want to expedite this process but the Council needs to be briefed on the situation. I ask you to wait here. Take a moment to rest and collect yourselves. Anakin will be outside of this door if you need anything. Do you have any questions before I speak with the Council?”

“Do we get a choice in the matter?” Ben asked, the twitch in his eye the only indication of his trepidation. Rey shot him a curious glance. It had been his idea to come here, after all. “What I mean is: do we have to be questioned before the entire Council?”

“People don’t generally refuse the Council’s invitation,” Obi-Wan explained somewhat awkwardly. So no, they didn’t have a choice.

Anakin must have seen the change in Ben’s expression because he explained: “You are an unknown entity who easily destroyed an enemy the Jedi have been fighting for years. You can’t blame them for being suspicious.”

“Not suspicious,” Obi-Wan said, shooting Anakin an annoyed look. “Merely curious.”

Ben snorted.

“Excuse me,” Rey asked while Obi-Wan and Anakin were sharing a look about Ben’s behavior. “Could someone fill me in? What is the Council we are meant to be seeing? I thought this was a temple. And why would they be suspicious of Ben? If they really had been trying to kill that old man for as long as you say, shouldn’t they be grateful?”

“The Jedi Council, my--ahem--Rey, and as I said they’re not suspicious.”

Obi-Wan didn’t have time to take further questions and Rey was left wondering exactly how much she didn’t know about the Jedi.

Anakin took a moment to courteously show them where the ‘fresher was before he went to fetch lunch for the three of them. Obi-Wan seemed to not be sure how much time they would have to wait but Anakin seemed to think it would be a while. After making use of the ‘fresher Rey sat down on the mushroom-like furniture; ready to wait.

She had only just started seriously considering passing out on the floor when Ben returned from his trip to the ‘fresher and sat on the other side of her mushroom-chair.

“Be careful what you say,” Ben whispered, leaning so that he was close to her ear. She could feel his deep voice in her toes.

_You’re not alone._

Rey swallowed. They had been physically closer today than they had for the entirety of the time she thought they would--

Looking back Rey had essentially spent a night convinced that they would be together. She’d hinged her future on it. Honestly, a large part of her still wished she could. It just hadn’t been realistic. But it had been true. This she knew for certain.

Rey could handle this. She’d been handling things her whole life. Hunger? Poverty? Existential despair amidst the threat of ceaseless toil? All overcome. Abandonment issues? Dealing with it. The creeping realization that the rush of emotions she’d felt toward her enemy might not go away and are, in fact, only getting stronger? She could handle that. Time travel with said enemy? Child's play, surely.

She took a calming breath. “What exactly are we going into?”

He was quiet for a moment and then: “I don’t know. There wasn’t a Jedi Council in Luke’s Order. There weren’t enough of them.”

Rey wondered if Luke would have built up to that. On a foundation of decades of teaching Jedi, he may have been able to. But with events as they were…

There wasn’t a point in dwelling on it now. Those questions were several years irrelevant from the time she left and several decades away from being a problem where she now sat.

“How much should we tell them?”

“I don’t think there’s much point in denying when we’re from,” Ben said. Much to Rey’s surprise. “The strongest among them have likely felt a disturbance already.”

“Are you sure about that? The Force here is so... _dirty_. How can they see anything?”

“They likely won’t be able to tell if we keep certain things from them but they’ll realize if we keep everything to ourselves.”

“We’ll look suspicious,” Rey conceded with a nod. “Well, more suspicious. They won’t help us with Palpatine and Vader if they don’t trust us.”

“They won’t help us find a way home,” Ben corrected.

Rey compressed her lips. “The Force will provide,” she reminded him.

Ben snorted, “The Force helps those who help themselves.”

Rey almost smiled but it was overtaken by a yawned.

“You should rest,” Ben suggested. “Who knows how long Anakin and Obi-Wan will be.”

“Yeah,” she relented looking at the room full of uncomfortable mushroom-chairs with resignation. If only anything looked remotely more appealing than the floor.

“You can lean on me,” Ben said, noticing her trepidation.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” Rey had slept similarly with Rose and Finn; it wasn’t comfortable but it was better than an unknown floor. Besides she was sure she’d roll off the mushroom-chairs if she tried to lay horizontally.

Ben simply shook his head in the negative.

She leaned against him, wanting to be awkward, to catalog the firmness of his shoulder and back, but she fell asleep too quickly to really care.

* * *

Obi-Wan caught Anakin right before he entered the waiting room with a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of water. He was be floating three cups with the Force but he tried to be conspicuous about it when Obi-Wan stopped him.

“Finished already?” He asked. “Does that mean you’re joining us for lunch?”

“It doesn’t look as though you’ve brought enough cups for four so I’ll pass,” Obi-Wan frowned mildly.

“How’d it go?”

“Interesting. Apparently, Master Yoda has sensed a disturbance in the Force. He thinks it involves out guests.”

“Really?” Anakin frowned, “I didn’t feel anything.”

Obi-Wan gave him a harder frown. His _you-are-not-the-Grand-Master-of-the-Order-and-_

 _should-not-presume-to-match-Yoda-in-the-force_ frown.

“Regardless,” Obi-Wan continued drily, “your stunt on the transport has me uneasy about the depth of their connection.”

“Oh?” Anakin cringed thinking about the Council’s reaction when Obi-Wan revealed his former Padawan’s tactlessness.

“Therefore, with the intent of receiving honest answers, the Council has decided to question them individually.”

“I see.” Anakin worried for Rey, who clearly had no idea what she was walking into. If he’d been alone the first time he’d met with the Council? Well, he was glad Qui-Gon had been there for support. “May I sit in, Master?”

“Whatever for?”

Anakin, not knowing how to explain his impulse, shrugged.

“I think not. You’ll need to keep the other company during. They are our guests, after all. Speaking of, go on and feed them. The Masters are taking a break as well. I’ll inform you when it’s time.”

Having been dismissed, Anakn entered the waiting room to find their guests fast asleep, propped up against each other. They looked cozy and he suddenly, intensely, missed his wife. It had been five months since he’d seen Padme.

Putting that aside for now Anakin cleared his throat loudly. “Food’s here,” he pronounced as Rey and Ben came awake, groaning and stretching.

“How long have we been waiting?” Rey asked with a yawn.

“Not long enough for a good nap, I’m afraid,” Anakin said, arranging the food and drink on a low table that he moved closer to where Rey and Ben were. After pouring them all generous portions of clean water, Anakin sat at an ottoman across from Rey and Ben.

“Any news?” Ben asked, reaching for his glass.

Anakin crossed his arms, recalling his conversation with Obi-Wan and the uneasiness the Council’s decision had left with him. “The Council has concluded their briefing on the situation. They have resolved to to question the two of you separately.”

“Why?” Rey asked around a mouthful of food. She was already on her third sandwich. Anakin was glad Obi-Wan hadn’t joined them for lunch.

Anakin considered how to answer and ultimately decided that it was in the Jedi Orders’ best interest if he let the interrogations pass the way the Council intended, whether he liked it or not. There was just too many unknown variables at play here. He had warned them they were to be seperated. It was the best he could do.

“The Council’s decision isn’t for question.”

They both gave him unimpressed looks. The conversation after that was sparse and shortly afterward Anakin felt a sense of anticipation tingling his spine.

“It’s time,” he announced. “Who’d like to go first?”

“I will,” they both said.


	4. i can see the future (it's a real dark place)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from the song "Choked out" by The Mountain Goats.

Ben had never been on trial before, not really. He had bowed before Snoke plenty--had his failings and failures weighed, counted, and measured against the legacy of a man he had never known. Not really. Kylo Ren may have been unable to shake loose the weakness of Ben Solo but Anakin Skywalker was _not_ Darth Vader.

Besides, they had only just met.

Snoke had been the only person who held him accountable (as Kylo or Ben, his distinction between the two had always been rather fragile, admittedly) and Ben was sure that Snoke’s version of right and wrong differed greatly from the mores of the beings before him now.

They had him stand in the center of a large room, the vaulted ceiling amplifying the voices of the people who sat in a circle of chairs around him.

Snoke’s discernment had been sharp; cutting him to the quick. But Ben knew that no being passed judgement like a Jedi--who savoured reflection like chewing the fat before getting to the meat of the matter. And he was in a room full of them, their shrewd scrutiny causing him to feel lacking in every sense of the word. Those sharp blue eyes had always made him feel so small…

_I failed you, Ben. I’m sorry._

No. These Jedi weren’t Luke. Ben needed to get a grip. _Be mindful, but empty._ That’s what what Luke had tried to teach him...Ben had never been either.

“Will you please share your name with us,” a voice rang out. It was the dark skinned Jedi that they had let off the transport at the Senate Dome. Kenobi had introduced him then as Master Windu. More time had passed as he and Rey napped than he’d assumed.

“Ben Solo.”

“Ben...Solo,” Windu said, skeptically.

“No one asked my opinion.”

Windu shared a look with a small green sentient who sat beside him, clearly thinking the name was fake.

Ben assumed the green being was Master Yoda. Luke had spoken of him.

“Do you understand why you are here?” Another Jedi asked, from just out of his periphery. Ben took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched his fists. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, still didn’t have any shoes, and there were Jedi all around him. He felt uneasy.

He could feel Rey in the next room, burning bright.

“Do you?” Ben asked, looking over his shoulder at the speaker. Turning back to Yoda he said: “I killed a Separatist agent that had been avoiding your forces for so long he was clearly starting to border on superstition. Does that really entitle me to an audience with the Jedi Council?”

“A lightsaber, you carry,” Yoda said. “Strange design, Obi-Wan told us. Show it to us, will you?”

Wow...Luke hadn’t been specific about Yoda’s peculiar way of speech but...wow. “You want me to show off my saber?” Ben asked, incredulously.

Yoda waved his hand in a ‘go ahead’ way. Ben waited for a moment to allow time for anyone to object but no one spoke. This had obviously been agreed upon beforehand.

Uncertain of their angle but unsure how or why to contest it, Ben pulled his saber from his pocket--Rey still had his belt--and ignited it without flare.

There were several gasps around the room. Yoda hummed.

“That’s enough,” Windu said. “Did you build that yourself?”

Ben glanced that the casing as he flicked it off. It was crude in some places, as more and more often he was required to make adjustments piecemail. But it was his work, for what it was.

“Yes,” Ben answered, pocketing the saber and ignoring the raised eyebrow he received from Windu. “It has been through a few phases since its original design, however.”

“It wasn’t always red,” a female Jedi from his left spoke.

“No.”

“Sith, you are not,” Yoda declared. “What faction of Force users responsible for your teaching, were?”

Ben thought of Snoke, piecing together an ideology from Sith artifacts; he thought of Luke doing the same from the Jedi. Of both of them, trying to pass on knowledge that they had never truly experienced. He thought of the Acolytes of the Beyond and the Knights of Ren; factions he never felt he’d really belonged to.

“Nothing you’d recognize,” Ben answered. “Nothing so concrete as this.”

“But taught, you were.”

“Yes.”

“Taught Count Dooku, at one time, I did. Then, student of a Sith, he became. Change hands in this way, you have?”

Ben frowned at the small green being. “What makes you think that?”

“Speak of this with you, someday, I hope to. Not today.”

“Today we’d like for you to tell us how you came to be on the _Invisible Hand_ ,” Kenobi spoke up.

A straightforward question to which he had no clear answer. “I was meditating on my ship. When I came out of it, I was on the _Invisible Hand_ with Rey.”

“She wasn’t with you before?” A Jedi Master said, tone judgemental.

Ben tried to ignore it. “No, I don’t know where she was.”

A different Jedi Master asked: “Did you feel anything unfamiliar while meditating?”

Ben hadn’t had time to reflect on it before but...“I felt a pull. Stronger than usual.”

“You usually feel pulled?” More judgement. Ben’s ire was rising.

“You’re asking the wrong questions,” he snapped.

There were murmurs from the Jedi around the room.

“Right questions, what are?” Yoda asked.

“When.”

The murmurs were confused this time.

Windu asked: “ _When_ were you before you found yourself on the _Invisible Hand_?”

“About 50 years from now.”

The murmurs upgraded to exclamations. Jedi Masters were throwing questions at him from all around. The usual questions one could expect from a suggestion such as time travel--if one were to expect such things. Things like: “How do you expect us to believe that?” and “Impossible!” and “Where is your proof?”

If anything, Ben got a measure of satisfaction from disrupting their agonizingly slow interrogation.

“As the Force wills it, all is.” Yoda’s assertion quieted the Jedi. Ben had a suspicion that the small Master only spoke like that so people were forced to shut up and think about what he said. Devious.

The room settled into a tense silence.

Kenobi was the first to break it. “Did you know Rey in your time?”

“You believe this nonsense?” Someone asked.

Kenobi looked at the speaker, unimpressed. “I sense no lie.”

“The Force does surround him in an unusual way,” Windu relented.

“It’s unprecedented,” another Jedi Master grumbled.

Kenobi graced the room with a winning smile. “Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt, for now. Ben, is it safe to assume that Rey is no stranger to you?”

Ben didn’t see what business it was of theirs but Kenobi already knew something. He likely hadn’t assumed they shared a Force bond but he knew that Ben had been lingering around Rey in the Force. Close enough to notice Anakin’s intrusion on the transport.

“I’ve known her a while.”

Kenobi hummed. “And you have no idea how or why the Force brought you both here?”

“We’ve speculated.”

Windu raised an eyebrow at Ben. “What are your speculations?”

Ben mulled it over. “How much of my future are you willing to hear?”

“Enough!” Yoda cracked his glimmerstick on the hard floor. “All is as the Force wills. No talk of your future, we will have on this day.” He frowned hard at each of the gathered Jedi Masters and Ben. “The girl, bring in!”

* * *

Ben didn’t look happy when she passed him in the hall but there was no time for words before the doors opened and she was led into a large round room of chairs and windows. Most chairs were occupied with people wearing robes and hard stares. Some of the chairs were occupied by holograms. Rey wondered at the manners of saving chairs for holograms while a present person was standing in the middle of the room. C-3PO would know.

Rey recognized only the two Jedi from the transport earlier. Master Kenobi and Master Windu. The latter of which frowned at her as he asked: “Will you state your name for us?”

“Rey.”

They waited.

A Jedi to the left of Master Kenobi cleared her throat awkwardly. “Rey, your companion gave us a family name and, frankly, told us more than we were expecting. You needn’t be guarded here.”

What a load of banthashit. Rey knew for fact that a person needed to be guarded at all times. Rey tried to breath through her annoyance. And her insecurity at the Jedi’s assumption. She was working on it.

“I mean no offense, but I have no other name to give you. I don’t have a family name. The only name I have is 'Rey' and it suits me just fine.” Yes. Good. She handled that well. Leia would be proud of how diplomatic and _not_ defensive she sounded.

The Jedi Master didn’t look impressed. Merely impatient. “Fair enough. Can you tell us how you found yourself on the _Invisible Hand_?”

“I was sleeping. I had a strange dream then I woke up there.”

“Can you describe your dream?” This was asked by a different Jedi. Rey circled to find the speaker. To look him in the eye as she answered.

“I was in a dark place with many doors.” She said when she found him. He looked a bit taken aback at being given her direct attention. She couldn’t imagine why. “I went through one. The one that opened for me.”

“Alone, you were?” This from a small green sentient on the other side of Rey, who circled again to face him. Now what was it he had said? She’d need to pay closer attention to him.

“Um. At first. Then Ben was there.”

The green sentient hummed. Rey thought it was a bit rude they hadn’t introduced themselves to her. Did they not think she was worth the courtesy? It was very disrespectful. “Find you, he did?”

“No,” Rey answered. “I found him.”

“How?” Master Windu asked.

Rey gave him an annoyed look. “It was a dream. I didn’t want to be alone. Then he as with me.”

“Alone, all of us are.” The green Jedi spoke again. Rey gave her attention back to him and tried to pay attention. “Our paths, our hearts, our minds, our own, are. No right, to bring him on your path, had you.”

Wait. What? “You think this was my fault?” She wished she hadn’t eaten so many sandwiches. They roiled in her stomach now.

“Brought you to us, the Force has. Training, you require.” He pointed a clawed finger at her. She could tell he was impossibly old and his pointing at her like that made her feel young and stupid. “Tainted by attachment, you are.”

Tainted. Tainted? By attachment? _Your parents threw you away like garbage._ Tainted by attachment! Her?

Perhaps some of what she was feeling was leaking out into the Force around her because the next words were said placatingly by a Jedi, with white hair and a protruding forehead, behind her. “Master Yoda isn’t trying to lay blame.”

Rey wheeled to face the Jedi. He continued, her attention not phasing him. “Your choice is simply odd to us. _You_ were clearly given this opportunity by the Force. _You_ had the dream. Your companion mentioned no such thing. And _you_ decided to bring in a questionable ally. We’re not implying that you shouldn’t be friends with him. Simply that your apparent aversion toward being alone may have caused you to develop an untoward dependence.”

Rey gasped. “That’s much worse than what he implied!”

Another Jedi asked: “How did the two of you meet?”

Rey spins to meet the stare of this one and thinks of being lost in the forest on Takodana. She’d had something he wanted.

“I worked for his father for a short time,” she said instead. Trying not to carry her anger and hurt from the last Jedi Master to this Jedi Master. So she hadn’t actually taken Han’s offered job. Most days she liked to think she would have. The imagined scenario helped calm her.

“Then, after Captain Solo’s death, I worked for Ben’s mother. Our paths often crossed, although he was estranged from his parents.”

“Solo isn’t a name we recognize as a prestigious family. Wouldn’t they have to be prestigious to have employees?”

Rey span, annoyed annew. “The name belongs to Ben’s father. His mother continues--will continue--to go by one of her own family names.”

“Which is?”

Spin. “Recognizable. Also, a question for Ben.”

“Did he ever offer to teach you?” Master Kenobi asked this and Rey had to do an about-face. They were going to give her whiplash.

“Yes.”

Before Rey could say more there was a murmur around the room. Rey didn’t know who to face with everyone talking so she stared at Master Kenobi who tugged on his beard with the appearance of a person doing some serious thinking.

“Did they know you were Force sensitive? His parents, I mean.” This was asked by the regal Togruta woman.

Rey thought about it after she turned to face the lady Jedi. Had Han guessed she was Force sensitive? Perhaps after her escape on Starkiller Base. But before? Surely not. “The Captain didn’t. Ben’s mother did.”

The Togruta woman frowned. “Did she ever ask you to use your abilities in your work for her?”

“Yes.” Rey answered, grateful to be facing one person for a while.

“What was your line of work?” She continued. Her eyes were shrewd.

“For Captain Solo: smuggling.” That could have very well been true. She _had_ helped get BB-8 from Jakku to Takodana, who was smuggling the map to Luke. “For Le--for Ben’s mother: insurrection, generally.”

There were collected gaps around the room.

Rey frowned, unamused by the judgement. “We were at war.”

“Did his mother take on all of Captain Solo’s employees after his death?” This is asked by the Jedi to the Togruta’s left, whose face is partially covered by some kind of apparatus.

Rey turns and thinks of Chewie and Finn’s place in the Resistance.

“Yes.” She decides.

“She recruited you.” The Togruta stated.

“Yes...What is the angle of these questions?”

“We’re trying to gauge your involvement with Ben,” the Togruta said. “Clearly the force brought you here for us to train you and the Jedi view of attachment is--”

“Trained? _No_ , that’s not why the Force brought me here--us here.” She’d already been trained by a Jedi, thanks. “This was--you don’t know what happens next, but I have to stop it. We, that is. Ben and I have to stop it.”

“Ben shouldn’t even be here,” Master Windu spoke up. Rey wheeled to face him. Annoyance giving way to anger.

“Great role in our war, you think you have?” It was difficult to tell but Rey thought the green man was mocking her and Rey was struck with cold clarity.

These were the Jedi Luke had mentioned. The one’s responsible for the creation of Darth Vader. No wonder Ben was so on edge. He’d spent the better part of his life destroying the legacy of the beings in this grand room. Luke was right about one thing, they did seem prideful to a fault.

She had had more than enough of being disrespected and judged by these people and now one was mocking her?

“ _Your_ war is now my present. But it is also my _future_ ,” Rey spat at the green Jedi. “Because of your failure _now_ the Republic falls in mere months! Your choices _now_ will be responsible for the galaxy being in a state of conflict for the next fifty years!”

The room fell into stunned silence.

Rey was just starting to muster up a perverse sense of accomplishment at the dumb looks on the Jedi’s shocked faces when the green Jedi spoke again.

“Alternate timeline, you are from. The fall of the Republic, we will not allow.”

Disgusted, Rey turned and stalked to the door. The sighs of relief from a roomful of doomed Jedi following her out.

* * *

Making conversation with Ben is terrible and Anakin hated it. With Rey it had been easy. He had found out she was from a desert too and they discussed their mutual disdain for sand and the conversation flowed naturally from there.

Ben, wasn’t interested in latching onto Anakin’s attempts at small talk and instead asked inane questions. Like: “How long have you known the Chancellor?” and “How close are you to Kenobi?” and “Who do you trust most in the Jedi Order?”

It was a bit of a downer, honestly.

Needless to say Anakin was immensely relieved when the door opened.

Less so when he was smacked in the face with Rey’s boiling anger.

“Oof.” Anakin hurriedly brought up his own shields. “Rey, put a lid on it.”

Ben stood to meet her. The gesture reminded Anankin of how he’d stand and envelop Padme in his arms when she was upset. Maybe squish her a little bit. Until she felt better. More secure.

Ben didn’t embrace Rey. Not exactly.

“Do _not_ put a lid on it,” Obi-Wan said, striding into the room behind Rey and throwing Anakin an _honestly-Anakin-that-is-not-the-Jedi-Way_ look.

Meanwhile, Ben kind of--wrapped Rey up, in the Force. Like pulling a blanket over her head. Effectively hiding her emotions from Anakin and Obi-Wan.

And Obi-Wan was just…letting this happen, apparently. Could he not feel that?

“The Council was not pleased with your outburst,” Obi-Wan said to Rey with his arms crossed and his _the-Council-was-not-pleased-with-your-outburst_ frown. Anakin had gotten all too familiar with that one over the course of the war.

“It wasn’t supposed to be pleasing,” Rey snapped, crossing her arms right back at him.

Anakin was torn between being indignant on his Masters’ account and just enjoying not being the one in trouble for once.

“Regardless, your concerns with the outcome of the war are valid. Therefore, if you agree to let the Jedi train you we will not only provide you and Ben with food and lodging and shoes but we will assign a Master to listen to your concerns.”

Wait? What? How had she gotten her way that easily? And Obi-Wan hadn’t even let Anakin sit in on the meeting. He could have taken notes!

Rey mulled the offer over. “And Ben’s concerns? He’s not removed from all of this either.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Of course. The Jedi will hear Ben’s concerns.”

Rey glanced at Ben, who shrugged.

“Fine,” Rey relented. She struck her hand out. “It’s a bargain.”

Obi-Wan glanced at her offerened hand with distance--handshakes were more of an Outer Rim custom. Still, with a sigh Obi-Wan clasped her hand in his own and they shook.

Rey and Ben were apparently staying a while. Anakin scoffed. What concerns could these outsiders possibly have with the war? And why was the Jedi Council taking them seriously?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! Feel free to drop a comment, I enjoy your feedback.


	5. old things made new waiting for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. There wasn't a way for me to add part of the next chapter that didn't ruin the flow of that chapter. The next chapter is longer, I promise.
> 
> Chapter title is taking from the song "New Zion" by The Mountain Goats.

“They’re worried about _her_ attachment to _him_?”

“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan said, looking around at the empty courtyard. “Lower your voice. I am not supposed to be sharing this information.”

It was early evening and the outdoor lights were just now flicking on to illuminate the approaching dark. It has been a long day. There have been a great many long days since the start of the war but this one was close to taking the cake in Anakin’s estimation.

He had just shown their guests to the rooms the Council assigned them (a floor apart) and commissioned droids to supply them with clothing and dinner (Rey had eaten most of the sandwiches, after all) and footwear.

Acting as a glorified steward, really. He was the one who landed the _Invisible Hand_ safely, he could have taken Count Dooku, he’d figured out the girl was Force sensitive. Why was the Council treating him like this? Not to mention that the Chancellor and Padme had been trying to reach him on comm for hours now. He felt like a wrung out sponge. And now this!

“He was in her mind, Master. You saw!”

“I recall your reaction,” Obi-Wan relented in his non-relenting way. “Although, Anakin, I wasn’t paying as much attention to her as you were.” Obi-Wan was giving him a look that Anakin did not like one bit.

“What exactly are you insinuating?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “All I’m saying is that the situation is...messy. In part, due to the apparent mutuality of it. You didn’t hear her testimony in the council chamber. The Force brought her here and she _reached_ for him, Anakin. Pulled him from one reality to another through the force of her will. The Council is wary of the consequences of such strong attachments between two Force sensitives. Especially one’s so strong.”

“Isn’t she a bit old for them to train her?” Anakin wasn’t going to admit that it stung, he was not.

“They are hoping they can have a tempering influence on her. And her on him, in time. She’s untrained and that causes her to make mistakes in ignorance, but he is simply unrestrained. He should know better than to be in her mind so casually.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!”

“I know, Anakin. The Council is going to play it by ear while they can. Clearly the Force’s will is in play here but we also have the war to fight. We cannot turn a blind eye to that. General Grievous is still at large.”

“Yes, Master. Just tell me how I can help.”

“You’ve already helped tremendously, Anakin. My pride in you cannot be overstated, my friend.” Obi-Wan grasped Anakin’s shoulder and smiled at him as he said this. And Anakin glowed. Or, it felt like he was glowing with how full he was of the light in this moment. He ducked his head and smiled, letting this feeling wash over him.

“Keep on as you have been. Deploy when the Council asks but until then establish yourself as their liaison, as you are close to them in age. Rey seems at ease with you already. Perhaps we can think of a way for Ben to learn to trust you as well.”

“The Chancellor has been asking to see him,” Anakin admitted. “He’s left me several messages.”

“Excellent. You can take Ben with you to visit Palpatine soon. If you don’t mind?”

Anakin relented. It was what both Palpatine and Obi-Wan wanted of him.

* * *

Rey was enamored with the splendor of the Temple. Ben had to admit to himself, as he watched her take it all in with eager wide-eyes, that he was a bit taken with it all too. Since they had been rushed up to the council chambers yesterday Anakin had offered a tour the next morning; retrieving Rey from her room first and then Ben. He still didn’t know the exact location of Rey’s room; could just feel her, bright and burning in the Force somewhere above him.

This was nothing like the temples and ruins he had visited with Luke--or later desecrated for Snoke. Despite the murkiness of the Force all around them there was a peace in this residence. Children of varying ages ran by, laughing. Knights and Masters could be seen collected in loose groups, talking in low, calm, voices. There was so much life in this temple. For some reason Ben had not expected that.

Ben had been to the remains of the Imperial Palace. He had seen the ruin of the place after angry Coruscanti's had pillaged and looted, stripping away anything of value. “A shame.” Snoke had said, though he himself had owned the fruit of those thieves' labor.

Ben had difficulty believing anyone could see what the Emperor had done to the former Jedi Temple and think it more glorious than the Temple as he saw it now: illuminated by morning light with Rey smiling, giddy with new experience. Looking the proper Jedi in her borrowed robes; the soft cream fabric billowing behind her as she gleefully ran down corridors.

Somewhere along the tour she’d started picking up stray Jedi robes. The Jedi had a bad habit of leaving their outer robes lying around unattended. She put a shorter, dark blue robe over her long cream one and when her own arms became laden she started handing some to Ben. He didn’t argue that their owners would likely come back for them. Just carried what he was given.

By the time Anakin noticed, she’d accumulated twelve robes of varying sizes and shades. They wasted the better part of an hour as Anakin tried to persuade her to put them back where she’d found them.

It was funny, he’d often imagined his grandfather as a Jedi. He’d imagined someone alienated, ostracized because of the power he possessed. Perhaps even looked on with suspicion. Someone like Ben had been with Luke’s Jedi.

Anakin Skywalker was not these things. People greeted him with respect. Kenobi smiled at him and they shared an easy familiarity.

How?

It seemed irreconcilable, the image that Snoke had painted of Darth Vader and the very real man Anakin Skywalker was, standing before him now. But Ben, of all people, knew appearances were deceiving.

People made bad choices all the time. Everyone, was just one bad choice away from being unrecognizable. From being a monster. Perhaps that had been the root of his mother’s fear of Darth Vader’s legacy--and of himself.

That one bad decision that led astray.

Ben didn’t fear it, because he had experienced it. But it was unsettling for him to witness Anakin like this; tired but content. He had a place among the Jedi that Ben had never had. He belonged.

It was sad.

If asked, Ben would have said he’d never be used to Snoke’s absence. Would always feel the fingers of him in the back of his mind, like settling dread. However, the weight of darkness he could feel here was nearly suffocating.

Unlike Snoke, whose darkness had been targeted mainly on Ben for years, this was settling in the Force like a stain. Rey could feel it. Anakin blamed it on the war. Ben had felt war. Ben had felt the darkside in very many of its iterations. He was a darksider, after all--or at least, that’s what the Jedi saw him as--he was the expert.

This was a Sith.

Rey thought they were there to keep Anakin from falling. Ben had given it some thought. He didn’t agree. Because Anakin Skywalker will turn into Darth Vader no matter what anyone does. It was his destiny. Sometimes destiny was damning.

* * *

For three days Kenobi kept them on a tight leash. It seemed that wherever Ben went in the Temple his namesake was near. Rey noticed the lack of trust too and even though she brushed it off Ben knew it was rackling her; could feel her annoyance buzz through their bond.

Rey argued with the Jedi Masters. Anytime they attempted to show her the ‘correct’ way to perform a technique she’d already learnt her way they butted heads. The Master assigned to her for the day would sigh or shake their head; disappointed with her stubbornness.

It delighted Ben--who was permitted to sit in on her lessons, at Rey’s insistence. The Jedi didn’t seem to know what else to do with him. This suited him just fine for the time being. It was a welcome break from being Supreme Leader of the First Order.

“I’ve been doing this on my own for months,” Rey would brag. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Padawans train for years before they are knighted. Sometimes decades,” she’d be reminded.

The concept never failed to baffle Rey.

But then some of the easiest Force techniques she had difficulty with. Stuff younglings could do. She’d skipped over all of that and went straight into fighting darksiders.

She never mentioned that the darksider she’d needed to fight was him, but his gut churned with guilt anytime the peculiarities of her accelerated training regime were brought up.

There’d been a time when he’d been the one who wanted to teach her. Now, he was content to simply watch as she both awed and infuriated the Jedi Masters.

As for Ben, he refused to do any of the meditation the Jedi kept suggesting he do. He reckoned they just wanted to get him out of their way for a while. At least until Rey gently encouraged him to try. If the Jedi found anything odd about their relationship they didn’t ask or comment about it in those first three days.

Ben almost wished they would. At least then he’d know too. For now, he and Rey were friendly, as he decided to follow her lead. He wouldn’t make a fool out of himself again.

* * *

It’s only their fourth day in the past when Rey talks Ben into meditating with her. She’d gotten permission from Master Windu (who’d answered with a relieved ‘Force, please’ and a wave of his hand in a _go-away_ gesture) to leave off of her lessons for a bit.

It’s pleasant not having any Masters around for once. It makes her feel lighter. She takes him to the big tree in the courtyard. It’s not especially private but she’s decided that it’s her favorite place in the Temple.

It’s very lively. With Jedi of all species coming and going and, in the middle of it all, the tree. The Force is cleaner around it. As though it filters the murky Force in this time, like the oxygen recycling on a ship. Dirty Force goes in, clean Force comes out.

Ben’s distracted by all the people. She can tell from the unease she gets through their bond. And by the way he kind of glares at anyone if they come too close to where they’re sitting.

“Isn’t this a little too crowded for meditation?” He asks. His large shoulders hunched in on themselves. He even looks too big to be sitting cross legged on the ground; it’s a bit absurd.

“Is it?” Rey adjusts herself, getting comfortable.

“You have meditated before,” Ben gives her a look. “Haven’t you?”

“‘Course I have.” Maybe. She’d sunk into the Force at Luke’s request on Ahch-To. It hadn’t been for long but she imagined it would help to recreate the experience with living things around. It’s not her fault that this planet was all durasteel and exhaust.

“Alright,” Ben relented. He closed his eyes and started breathing with purpose.

She watched a moment as his large chest expanded and contracted.

Rey hurriedly closed her eyes. She’d been right, it was more difficult to focus here than it had been on Ahch-To. But she’d expected that and already had a plan for this eventuality.

She reached for the tree. Let it filter her like the rest of the Force around it. Let her consciousness spring from out of its branches. And she was in. Or open. To the Force.

There were… _so many_ beings on this planet. More than she’d ever felt in her life. Their love and fear and regrets and hopes all bleeding into the Force. Pulling her into their lives.

But there was something pulling her back. Recognizable. A warning: _don’t go too far._ Yes, it would be easy to lose oneself in the chaos of so many living beings.

She’d stay here. With the tree, which focused her.

And with Ben, who kept her grounded. Kept her from going astray. Even when he hadn’t been able to keep himself from wandering. Didn’t he know that she wasn’t afraid of the darkside? Didn’t he know it was all part of balance?

Balance.

In that instance she could feel her consciousness mix with his; twin cords entwined. She could feel his uncertainty, his anxiety, his fear, his longing. She knew he felt her own. Their emotions, in this moment, with just themselves and each other to worry about, mirrored.

Therefore, when they finally eased out of the Force and back into themselves--trying to put the pieces of each other carefully back in place--Rey had no reservations about admitting, “I liked that.”

She was herself again, except for the part that was always connected to him. The bond. Blown wide open.

Ben looked thrilled but sated. “I did too.” There was a smile in his eyes that played on his lips.

Rey felt close to him, in a way she’d skimmed the surface of, once, and secretly dreamed of since. They’d always been close, after all. Closer than they intended, closer than they should, closer than was wise.

Closeness with caution. With warning alarms blaring.

But this wasn’t unfamiliar. She had tasted this intoxicating feeling once before. The Force had shown her, with trembling hands and an open heart. The Force had teased her with this feeling. Rey wasn’t someone to be taunted.

She thought about kissing him. Thought about leaning over to where he sat--close to her but not touching, never touching. Never making first contact. Leaving it to her. She thought about putting her mouth on his. His lips were always so red and soft looking.

She saw him flush, perhaps he was watching all of her imaginings like a holovid. Perhaps he wasn’t far enough to see the details of her thoughts. Maybe he was only catching the heady feeling her imagined boldness was leaving behind.

Who knew, in that moment, where Rey ended and Ben began?

But she had been beaten by her own boldness once before. So she tempered it. Not all the way, but enough not to kiss him in a crowded courtyard. She leant over to him and grasped his hand in her own. Dragging it onto her lap. It was so large, compared to her own. His fingers were thick.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice was curious but not displeased. He wasn’t disappointed in the direction she’d taken them, even if it didn’t involve kisses.

She couldn’t look at him. She stared at his wide palm, his long fingers, his blunt nails; toying with his hand with both of hers.

Rey shrugged. She honestly had no idea. She glanced up at him through her lashes. His gaze was curious and pleased and hungry. He was always so intense, even when he was playing at patience. It made Rey’s stomach feel weak.

Rey leaned toward him--

“Ahem.”

Startled, Rey jumped back, looking around she found Master Windu frowning down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question: Would incorporating Obi-Wan and Padme's Points Of View be alright with you all? It helps me work through writer's block if I write the scene I'm stuck on from a different POV but I understand that some readers hate too many POVs. It will still be a primarily Ben and Rey POV story but I think having more POV characters brings more emotional depth to a story. Let me know how you feel about it.


	6. nothing in the shadows but the shadows hands (reaching out to sad, young, frightened men)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented with their take on my POV question. I've got a good general idea of how to go forward now.
> 
> Please note that I added a tag.
> 
> The chapter title is taken from the song "Harlem Roulette" by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> Also, there's a scene that Yoda expresses a sentiment that I hadn't realized was an indirect quote (it's in Yoda speak) until I was editing the chapter, but I liked the sentiment enough that I didn't want to change it. So I'll own up to using it and give credit where it's due. The quote is: “You were her way here, and it's a dangerous thing to be a door.” It's from The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. Which I highly recommend.
> 
> And finally, fuck Yoda's speech patterns. Who thought that was a good idea?

Master Windu separates the two of them like naughty children. Sending Ben away with Anakin and escorting her farther into the Temple. He doesn’t speak to her but Rey’s not sure she can hold a conversation right that moment anyway.

She and Ben had been careful to tuck themselves in after their meditation but the bond complicated things. It had been wide open when Master Windu came and Rey had retreated from it hastily. Therefore, she felt like she was all tangled up. Stretched taut and then let go. Not yet rebounded.

She had a distant hope that whatever lesson he was taking her to wouldn’t require much thought on her part.

She was finally deposited in a sparse room much like the one she and Ben had waited in on that first day. Bare walls, open floor, a few mushroom stools.

Rey entered and sat herself on a stool. Fully expecting Master Windu to join her.

“Please wait here,” he said instead, standing over her. “Master Yoda will be with you shortly.”

Rey had learnt many names in the three days she’d been in the Temple. Most of them were unconsciously forgotten--there were just too many people here for Rey. However, that was a name that had stuck with her, since their first meeting had been so tempestuous.

“What? Why? What did I do wrong?”

Master Windu raised an eyebrow at her. “You asked to have your grievances aired. Master Yoda has decided it’s for the best that he takes on that role. Why? Have you done something _else_ that might draw the attention of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order?”

Rey narrowed her eyes at him. She really didn’t get why the Jedi were so against her being friendly with Ben. It’s not like they knew of any of his more questionable choices.

She refused to let Master Windu make her feel guilty about any of it. Let alone the possibility of a kiss he may or may not have rudely interrupted.

“I just wasn’t aware that the Grand Master of the Jedi Order had the time.”

“For you? We’re all doomed if he doesn’t make the time.” With that Master Windu left her alone to wait.

She had a bad feeling about this but she tried to beat the feeling back. She might feel like a pile of loose Rey threads at the moment but she wasn’t going to be bullied by anyone.

* * *

Windu sent Ben with Anakin. Apparently they had a pre-scheduled meeting no one had bothered to tell Ben about.

He wasn’t too annoyed. Just moments ago Ben had felt the best he had ever felt. With Rey tumbling with him in the force and touching him in reality. He felt so grounded in the light, in that moment, that he followed Anakin in a kind of daze. The light’s pull had been an annoyance for so long that submerging himself in it like that left him feeling intoxicated.

He was distantly aware of leaving the Temple. Of riding in a speeder across the city with Anakin. He didn’t ask where they were going and Anakin didn’t speak.

He should have paid more attention. Should have tried to talk to Anakin. He would have been better prepared. As it was, Ben felt stupid and slow when he was led into the office of the High Chancellor of the Republic.

“Ah, Anakin!” The voice was that of a cheerful politician. Avuncular, his mother would have called it. Ben had uncles. A whole slew of them. He didn’t need any stranger emulating a single one. Didn’t think he’d live through it.

“And Ben Solo! So wonderful you could join us.”

For Forces' sake, Palpatine was patting him on the arm. His life couldn’t get any stranger.

“Thank you for having us, Chancellor,” Anakin said with easy familiarity.

Ben watched as Chancellor Palpatine put an arm around Anakin and felt his skin crawl. Felt hands on his own back. Words whisper in his own ears. He knew too well what was happening here. But how to tell Anakin? And should he?

* * *

Rey tried to collect herself before Yoda arrived with varied success. Yoda, for his part was a gracious host. He poured her tea and brought in snacks for them to share.

“Enjoying your stay so far, how are you?” He asked as he passed Rey her tea. She took a curious sip. It was sweet.

Rey felt like she should be homesick by now. She missed Finn and Rose and Chewbacca and Leia, sure, but the base in general? Her fellow members of the Resistance? The constant conflict? Not so much.

“It’s been good for me, I think. To get away from my war. And everyone here has been very kind and accommodating. So thank you for that.”

“Hmm.” Yoda took a sip of his own tea. “Learning from your lessons, are you?”

“A bit."

“Powerful, your teachers say you are.”

“Do they?” This was news to Rey. With all the complaining the Master’s who’ve taken to training her have done she’d assumed they thought her hopeless. Then again, he’d said powerful, not skilled.

“Quite…” Yoda paused, taking a moment to study her. “Speak of Ben Solo, we must.”

Rey put her tea down on the low table in front of her. She should have expected this. “Must we? Can we speak about literally anything else?”

Yoda raised a bushy eyebrow at her. “Thought he was your friend, I did.”

“He is. I’m just fairly certain I know your stance on our friendship.” She knew Yoda’s stance on their relationship better then she knew her own.

“Wanted to teach you, at one time, he did.”

“He offered,” Rey relented. “I don’t know how serious he was about it.”

“A serious matter, it is.” Yoda grumbled with a disapproving harrumph. “Your doorway into the Force, he would have been. Shape your understanding of things, a teacher does. Yes. A dangerous thing, it is, to be a doorway.”

He did shape her understanding of the Force, at least before she met Luke. “I suppose.”

“Refuse his offer, you did.”

“Yes,” Rey said, warily. Permanently scaring someone is a type of refusal, yes?

“Why?”

Rey had to fight not to grimace at the memory of his offer. She’d been desperate and mad with grief in the snow covered forest of the crumbling Starkiller Base. Because of him. “It didn’t seem like a good fit, at the time.”

“Accept his offer now, would you?”

Rey couldn’t help thinking of his other offer, the more tempting one. But that wasn’t what Yoda was asking about. “I’d still turn him down,” she said at length. “But I might be kinder about it.”

“Unkind, are you?” Yoda asked with a note in his voice that could be surprise but could just as easily be sarcasm.

Rey shrugged. “Only when kindness isn’t an option.”

“Hmmm. So refuse, Ben Solo, unkindly, you did.”

Rey thought of Ben laying in the snow, gasping, his face ripped apart. He hadn’t just asked to teach her that night. He’d killed his father. “His timing was inappropriate.” Rey picked her tea back up.

Yoda took a moment to digest this. “Had a teacher in mind, did you? When you refused him.”

“Not exactly. But I was sent by Ben’s mother to train under her brother. Shortly after refusing to be Ben’s student.”

“Oh?”

“He wouldn’t teach me.”

“Obviously. As still untrained, you are.”

Rey scoffed. “Let me ask you something, Master Yoda. Since this is supposed to be about my grievances.”

Yoda gave her a go-ahead gesture.

“If you, as a teacher, think your student is being pulled to the dark side. What do you do? What’s the Jedi’s policy on that?”

Yoda shook his head, frowning. “Pulled, one is not. Fall, they do.”

“I really don’t see the difference.”

“Because child, you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Rey reminded him. She could feel her ire starting to rise. How did this man keep offending her this badly?

“Follow the path set before you, you did not. Wandered, like a child, bringing her favorite toy, you did.”

“Hey!” For reasons she’d rather not examine at the moment she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

Yoda considered her pensively. “Ben Solo’s doorway, you became. His way here, you were.”

“I told you,” Rey hissed. “I didn’t do this.”

“A dangerous thing, being a person’s way.” Yoda said again, ignoring her.

“How do you know that? That I was his way here. How do you know the Force didn’t want him here?”

“Met him, have you?” He asked, drily.

“That’s unfair. He hasn’t done anything wrong here.”

“Carry a red lightsaber, killed Dooku, yelled at Masters--”

“Well you make it so difficult not to.”

“--wanders around the Temple projecting his fear and unease. Making my Jedi uneasy in turn.”

That was unexpected. Rey took that in, and the look of indignation on Yoda’s face. “That’s why you don’t like him? Because he’s afraid. You do realize we’ve traveled into the past? He’s right to be worried.”

“Fear the Jedi, he does. What cause has he?”

“Ask him.”

“Plan to, I do. Carries too much, he does. As do you.”

“Carry too much?”

“The burden of negative emotions, the seeds of the dark side are,” Yoda said, pointing a clawed finger at her. “Fear, anger, hate. Once these latch on, difficult it is, to shake them off. Release your emotions into the Force, you should. Let it all go.”

“Is that what the Jedi do? Is that why the Force is so murky here? It’s full of all of your unwanted emotions?”

Yoda gave an offended huff. “Hm! Misunderstand, you do. Clouded because of the Sith, the Force is.”

“If you say so.”

Yoda and Rey stared at each other for a long moment. She wondered if he disliked talking to her as much as she disliked talking to him.

Yoda broke the silence with a sigh. “Hold onto these negative emotions, some do. Ask about students falling, you did. All is as the Force wills it. But no turning back, there is, once they fall. Eliminated, they must be.”

Rey is viscerally horrified by the implication. “You kill them! That’s the Jedi’s policy on darksiders?”

“On Sith,” Yoda corrected her. “Not equal, all darksiders are.” He must notice her disquiet because he gave her a defeated look. “Happy work it is not. No, never happy work.”

“You’ve killed students for falling?” Rey asked, her voice came out harder than she felt. She felt queasy. “Personally?”

Yoda shook his head. “Common, it is not. Dooku, my student was. A long time ago.”

Dooku, that old man Ben had killed on the _Invisible Hand_ , had been Yoda’s student? She was torn between disdain and pity. On the one hand she couldn’t imagine teaching someone about something as important as the Force only for them to grow up and become her enemy. It put her in mind of Leia, even though it wasn’t exactly the same. Still, it couldn’t be a good feeling.

But then there was the Jedi’s zero tolerance in terms of the fallen. They would likely have thought Luke completely justified in his actions against Ben. Even if they haunted Luke for years. Rey imagined Yoda would have likely encouraged Luke to release his guilt into the Force and told him not to hesitate the next time.

Because they thought there was no coming back into the light after someone had fallen. But Rey knew better. Luke should have known better too. Especially Luke.

Rey knew that Yoda was old. Something instinctual in her recognizes him as an elder being. One to be respected and revered and avoided at all costs. Being around such beings makes her feel young and naive. She feels like a child now but can’t help but ask, “How old are you, Master Yoda?”

“Exact age, difficult to say. Nearly nine hundred years, am I.”

Nine hundred years? It boggles the mind. How much could someone learn with a life that long? How much could someone forget, in that time?

Nine hundred years and he’d never had to kill a student. That was a track record she could respect; even if she didn’t agree with the practice as a whole. He’d never even had to consider eliminating a former student until Dooku. Who Ben had killed. Could Yoda harbor a grain of resentment toward Ben for that? Or was it a relief? At least Yoda hadn’t had to be the one to do it.

And Rey had been carrying around Dooku’s lightsaber for days now--hidden among the infinite folds of the Jedi attire--unaware that anyone would want a memento of Count Dooku. Now, Rey riffled through her robes and pulled out the saber. “I think you should take this.” She offered the saber to Yoda, arm outstretched.

Yoda carefully took the saber, stunned. She’s reminded of Luke. She hoped he didn't throw it.

“No other options, there are?” Yoda asked in a quiet and dejected voice.

“What?”

“Only when kindness isn’t an option, you said.”

“I--” But Yoda had already hopped off his mushroom chair and was hobbling to the door.

Rey sat there for a long time after he’d left her confused. It took her thinking back through their conversation to realize what Yoda had meant.

Unkind. He thought she was being unkind by giving him Dooku’s saber. Was it? Perhaps. It wasn’t the saber of his student, after all. It was the red, Sith, saber of Count Dooku.

That was clearly an important distinction to Yoda. Did he not acknowledge the Sith who had died on the _Invisible Hand_ as the person he’d taught? The person he had been a doorway into the Force for. Or was it muddled? Was he unsure how to reconcile the two?

Rey was having trouble reconciling this young and vibrant Anakin Skywalker with the horror stories she’d heard of Darth Vader.

Rey had no trouble reconciling vile Kylo Ren with the man who had smiled at her that morning and let her play with his hand under the bright sun. Kylo Ren was a choice that Ben Solo made. For now, it seemed like Kylo Ren was a choice Ben was choosing not to make.

Had it been difficult for Leia and Han to reconcile the two? Perhaps. Neither of them had ever talked about it to Rey.

Did all darksiders seem like another person to those who had raised and taught them? Rey supposed it was a comfort to think that way as you watched someone you loved commit repulsive acts.

Rey could recognize those impulses in herself at times. She wasn’t afraid of the dark side. Should she be? Was her bond with Ben blurring the lines between light and dark for her? She didn’t think it was, but the Grand Master of the Jedi Order clearly thought she was selfish and unkind. Pulling people through space and time and giving gifts aimed to mock. Neither of those had been her intention. Did that matter?

It seemed like her only way forward--her only choice--was to take this opportunity to learn the Jedi ways as seriously as she could.

And that meant finally confronting the bond that she and Ben shared.

* * *

Palpatine had arranged for the three of them to take lunch in his office. He’d ordered an opulent spread that Ben ate gratefully, despite himself. The food the Jedi served at the Temple was a bit too bland for his taste.

While they ate Palpatine and Anakin talked about the war with grim resignation and any time Palpatine would ask about troop movement or current news from the front Anakin would throw Ben a worried glance and inform the Chancellor that that was sensitive information.

As if Ben cared.

He had wondered if the Jedi Council had seen fit to tell Anakin about the time travel. Anakin hadn’t asked about the future and from his worry about Ben being privy to current events, Ben would guess, no. They had not told him.

Ben knew how this war ended. He’d probably tell Anakin if he knew to ask. He’d tell him that everyone loses the Clone War.

Finally Palpatine gave a weighty sigh. “Let us leave such serious conversation where it belongs: in meetings.” He turned to Ben. “Ben, how are you enjoying your... _stay_ in the Jedi Temple?"

What a complicated question. Ben had expected that he'd have to modify the truth, that he’d have to be careful about what he said or did in front of Palpatine. Apparently Palpatine was trying imply that Ben was the Jedi’s prisoner. Let him try. Ben wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of his personal thoughts on Jedi.

“It’s been very enlightening. And the Jedi are nothing but gracious hosts."

Anakin gave Ben a disbelieving look, which he ignored.

“I see,” Palpatine said, leaning back in his chair to regard Ben. “So that unpleasantness regarding your unlawful possession of a lightsaber has been cleared up? Master Windu assured me it was a very serious matter."

“Nearly.” Ben said.

“Oh?”

“The Jedi council showed leniency with regard to my service--in eliminating Count Dooku as a threat. I’ve been allowed to keep it on a provisional basis.”

Palpatine raised an eyebrow at this. “Even in wartime?”

Oh, that's a good argument. Ben knew he was a bad liar. He shouldn't be trying to pull one over on the Emperor. His father had said the best way to lie was to stick closely to the truth. Although, Han had also been a bad liar, but that was all Ben had to go on. “It’s a concession to my level of training.”

“I see,” Palpatine said flatly. At the same time Anakin exclaimed: “What?”

Ben really should ignore Anakin. Instead he turned to him. “I may not be a Jedi but I was trained by one for a time.”

“But not at the Temple.” Palpatine supplied.

“No. Not at the Temple.” There had been a temple at Luke's school, but it wasn't the temple Palpatine meant.

“It’s what we call a rogue Jedi, Chancellor,” Anakin said, clearly not over Palpatine writing him of for such a suggestion a few days ago.

Palpatine leveled Anakin with an unimpressed look. “You don’t say.” Then he turned back to Ben. “So you’re training was a...a flavor of Jedi training?”

“No.”

“But you come from an--uh, offspring of the Jedi Order?” There was a suggestion in Palpatine’s eyes as he asked this. Ben wasn't going to give him anything.

“More like it’s bastard child.”

This earned his a chuckle from Palpatine. Anakin didn't look amused.

“Is that why your lightsaber looks like a safety hazard and your form is sloppy?” Anakin asked with a sneer.

“Now, Anakin,” Palpatine laid a placating hand on Anakin’s shoulder. The gesture made Ben sick. “I’m sure Ben has done his best with the tools he had. But, tell me, Ben. How did you come across such a unique design for your lightsaber? I’ve never seen such a thing.”

Ben had to refrain from rolling his eyes. _Sure_ _you_ _haven’t_ , he thought. Since it was an ancient Sith design.

Ben shrugged. “No mystery there, I’m afraid. It was necessary for the kyber crystal I had.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes at Ben. “What’s wrong with your crystal?”

Ben was so busy trying to figure out Palpatine’s angle that he barely spared Anakin a glance. “It’s cracked.”

“Why?”

“It just is,” Ben said, trying to get Anakin off the topic by being short.

“Oh, you mean like it’s _just_ red.”

“So what?” Ben sneered. “It’s just a color.”

“A color darksiders use because their atrocities make the crystal bleed,” Anakin hissed.

Of all the people to preach to him about the atrocities of darksiders. “Maybe I found it that way.”

“Cracked and bleeding?”

Palpatine raised both his hands to them. “Gentlemen, please! This was supposed to be a peaceful lunch among friends. We should give our guest the benefit of the doubt.”

“What would you know about kyber crystals, Chancel--”

“Why? He’s a liar,” Anakin said, reasonably.

”What did you call me?”

“What? You expect me to believe you?”

“I was defending your right to be suspicious you--”

Ben stopped and whipped his head around. Staring in the direction of the Jedi Temple, but seemingly at a wall.

Rey.

She’s upset.

“Did you feel something in the Force?” Palpatine asked, putting on the air of an overly curious layperson.

“I didn’t feel anything,” Anakin said, brow furrowed.

Ben tried to collect himself without much success. “Is this meeting over yet?”

* * *

“What was that?” Anakin asked Ben when they were back in the speeder; Ben having rudely cut their lunch with the Chancellor short. Anakin was sure he would have stolen the speeder if Anakin hadn’t relented into leaving.

Ben may as well have ignored him as he asked: “Kenobi or someone would comm you if something happened to Rey, right? So you could tell me?”

“I guess,” Anakin said, pulling the speeder into traffic.

“Did they?”

“No.”

“Can you check?”

Anakin glanced at Ben, who was glaring at him. But Anakin had heard the tightness of fear in his voice. Couldn’t unhear it.

Grumbling, he used one hand to fish his commlink out of the robes, his other hand, still trying to drive them back to the Temple.

It was blinking. Huh.

He pressed play on a recorded message.

“Anakin,” Padme’s breathy voice said from the commlink.

He pressed stop before Padme could say anything else.

“Play that message,” Ben demanded. “Something’s wrong.”

“No.” Anakin hastily put the commlink back into his robes. “That wasn’t a Jedi. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then who was that?”

“None of your concern.”

“If something has happened to Rey so help me--”

“Nothing is wrong!” Force help him! Would there be a moment in this day that he wasn’t arguing with Ben Solo? “For Forces' sake, is that what this is about? You were rooting around in that poor girl’s head while we were half a city away?”

“I was not rooting aroun--”

“You were! What did she do to ever deserve such attention from you? Leave her alone!”

“Don’t act like you’re doing her any favors,” Ben practically growled at him. “She doesn’t need your protection. Least of all from me.”

“She’s untrained--”

“But stronger than you know.”

Anakin can’t help but scoff. Glancing over long enough to catch Ben sneering at him. “Is that what this is about?” He asked. “You want to train her.”

Ben leaned back in his seat. Apparently done with the theatrics. “What do you care? I’m a liar, remember?”

Or not.

“Oh come on! You expected me to believe any of that bantha shit about your crystal?”

“I _expected_ you to be quick enough to realize I was telling an obvious lie for a reason,” Ben leaned forward in his seat again. “I expected you to sit there and sip tea and let me make myself dodgy to Palpatine. I expected you to be smarter than m--” He stopped. Snapping his mouth shut so quickly that Anakin could hear his teeth clank.

Anakin looked at Ben, confused about why he stopped. But Ben had leaned back into his seat and was now watching the city pass beneath them.

“Whatever,” Anakin said when it became obvious Ben wasn’t going to finish that thought aloud. He should be thankful for the silence. Engaging Ben hadn’t gone well for him. He should leave well enough alone.

“Why are you trying to make Palpatine think you’re dishonest?”

“I don’t want his attention,” Ben said to the windshield.

That much was obvious. With the way Ben acted sometimes Anakin would bet he didn’t want anyone’s attention. Except for Rey.

“Why though? He’s the most powerful man in the Republic.”

“Having the attention of powerful men has never got me anywhere worth being in the past.”

Anakin didn’t really know what to say to that.

“Let me ask you something,” Ben said, turning again to face Anakin. “Do you have these meetings with Palpatine often?”

Anakin shrugged. “He’s the Chancellor of the Republic. I’m a commissioned general. We meet often.”

Ben was shaking his head before Anakin finished talking. “No. I get that. But these off record lunches? How often do the two of you do this?”

“When we can,” Anakin shrugged. “I’m not usually on Coruscant this long.”

“And you only talk about the war? Nothing else?”

“What?”

“Nothing more personal?” Ben elaborated.

Anakin scoffed. “Of course we talk about personal stuff. I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a child.”

Ben leaned back into his seat again. “I see. And you trust him?”

“Is this because he’s a politician? They aren’t all bad.”

“Of course they are.”

“No, they aren’t,” Anakin insisted, thinking of Padme, smiling a bit. He hoped Ben didn’t notice. He needed to call her back. He’d been on Coruscant for nearly four days. She’d commed almost double that so she must know he was on planet. He’d call her as soon as he got a second to himself.

* * *

Ben found Rey and Kenobi in a dojo. He’s teaching her forms. She’s sweat slick from exertion and she won’t look at him. She’s still upset. He can feel it. Although, she's trying to block him out. He doesn't push. He can wait. Anakin is right about that. Rey deserves the privacy of her own mind.

And he has to wait. Kenobi kept Rey busy for hours and when he finally suggested that she take some time to rest before taking supper she sunk gratefully onto the dojo’s matted floor.

Ben stood from the wall he’d been leaning on and approached her as Kenobi exited. When they cross paths, Kenobi gave Ben a disapproving look.

Ben it very much used to disapproval, so he ignored him.

“Isn’t this boring for you?” Rey asked from her back as he crossed his legs and sat down beside her. “Watching me make a fool of myself every day?”

Ben blinked, taken aback. “You’re doing well, Rey. It takes most people years to get to this point in their training.”

Rey scoffed. “How was your trip with Anakin?” She asked, clearly changing the subject. Ben frowned at her but she looked so tired, laying there, that he didn't push her.

“We had lunch with Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Oof,” Rey winced. “That well, huh?”

“He tried to ask me questions but mostly Anakin and I bickered in front of him.” Ben shrugged. “As methods of evasion go, it was fairly successful.”

Rey laughed a bit at him and Ben is certain he hasn't heard her laugh before now. Even in this mostly deprecating way.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know, to meet Darth Vader.”

Ben snorted at that but lowered his voice to match her tone. “Anakin isn’t Darth Vader. He’s as much Darth Vader as the boy Luke tried to kill was Kylo Ren.”

“I would have liked to have met him. That boy,” Rey said, almost wistfully.

“Oh?”

“He’d be closer to my age,” she pointed out. “We’d be on more equal footing. Besides, it would be sweet.”

“ _We_ are on equal footing,” Ben insisted. “And he wasn’t sweet.”

“I bet he’d be sweet on me,” Rey’s smile was mischievous and he knew he shouldn’t take this so personally but he couldn't help himself.

“I can’t change what I’ve done, Rey. Or,” he looked around at Jedi symbol emblazoned throughout the room, “at least not in a way that would be satisfying to you.”

“Who’s asking that, Ben? Although.” She sat up. “I do have something I’ve been meaning to ask you. We haven’t talked about it. The bond.”

Ben wasn’t trying to get into her head but he could feel her anxiety spike through the bond and he's immediately wary. They’d spent so long dancing around this subject that it didn’t feel right that she’d bring it up after something had upset her. “What’s there to talk about?”

“What should we do about it? We’ve been letting it come and go without trying to control it. Letting it pull us under. Pull us together,” he watcheed as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. It seemed like a nervous gesture. “Is that what you want? What if it's not a gift from the Force? What if Snoke really did construct it and it's just lingering? What if we get used to it and then it fades away?”

Ben thought back to the throne room and Snoke’s taunts and the resulting fear from Rey. His own pain at the thought that Snoke was once again responsible for leading Ben toward happiness only to persuade him that such sentimentalities were trivial. Weak. That he shouldn’t want it at all and his want of it was a defect. That it illustrated his wrongness.

Ben had tried to put a stop to that then. But it actually took the last six months of incredibly brutal self-introspection to come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t allow himself to taint his own feelings for Rey. He couldn’t keep being his own worst enemy.

Back then he should have said something. Something true. That he could love her? Maybe. That he cared for her? He definitely should have told her that. He should have asked her to help him find a way to make it work.

But he’d said something about her being nothing but not to him...

True, perhaps but not a convincing proposal.

“So what?” Ben asked now. “Do you care if Snoke created this bond, Rey? Because I don’t. I’m curious about it’s origins, sure but it doesn’t change anything for me.”

“What do you mean?”

He could tell her something true now. “When the bond opened I was in a bad place and I had put myself there. Maybe it wasn’t fair to involve you in the mess of my bad decisions but you were involved somehow and you were exactly what I needed.”

“What was that?” Rey asked, looking up at him with a guarded expression. Ben could feel her trepidation in the bond but he forged ahead.

“A friend, mostly. But also someone to kick my ass when necessary and close the door when I’d gone too far. I needed knocked out of my own head; my own spiral. I needed to care about someone who wasn’t marred in the mess of my family, Rey. I do care about you and the bond didn’t force me to.”

“Didn’t it?” she asked, her face pinched with unhappiness. “We wouldn’t have spoken if it weren’t for the bond.”

Ben felt like he’d been pulled under water by the implication. He felt like he was drowning. “Perhaps.”

“What about what I need, Ben?”

“What do you need Rey?”

“Why don’t you look?”

This felt like a trap. “Do you want me to look?”

Rey stood; paced a few times around the dojo--warring with herself--before she came back and stood in front of him.

“Yes. I want you to look. Just this once.”

Ben rose to his knees and looked up at her. He considered telling her no. That she seemed too divided about this and she should just tell him, but he was in her head this morning and it wasn’t an issue then. So Ben looked.

She’s unbalanced. She’s full of self-doubt and confusion. He understands. He’s been there too. Will likely be there again. But he can’t think of the bond as a bad thing. It’s his lifeline. But, he can see now, that it’s the source of her confusion--or at least a part of it.

One day they’d go home and what happened here would have repercussions. Not just on the timeline but on her connection with him. She’d lost sight of that, here with him as her only ally.

If she strengthened the bond then it’d be stronger when they were home. When he was Supreme Leader again and she was a rebel Jedi. The bond as it was was troublesome enough. If it was stronger then Force only knew what kind of information would pass from her end to his and vice versa. Could she trust him not to use confidential information against the Resistance? Could she trust herself? Getting closer to Ben was a bad idea. But it was also so easy.

Ben tried to open himself to her; to let her see that he’d been wrong. He didn’t want to be Supreme Leader. That he wouldn’t go back to the First Order.

He put his hand on her calf, trying to make her look. The physical contact does something else. Something he hadn’t intended but won’t shy away from.

Before she even thought about it her hand is in his hair; mussing it between her fingers and pulling a little. His eyes widen and he felt his face flush.

“Rey,” he said.

The bond is still wide open. He can feel that a dark part of her liked him like this, it made her feel powerful. It made her weak and warm. And she had been so low lately. He didn't want her to feel low. Not when she’s so elevated in his eyes. Nearly soaring.

“Ben,” she said. Her voice, an alluring tone he had never heard before. It went straight to his bloodstream like a drug.

He moved his hand up her leg to her thigh, and she gasped. Ben can’t parse the emotions that are coming from her through the bond anymore. They are infinite.

She let go of his hair and stepped out of his reach. One thing came through to him loud and clear: _Now is not the time to explore this._

Rey took a deep breath, this was difficult for her to ask. “I just need some time to think, to figure out what I want. For Forces' sake, Ben, a few days ago you were the Supreme Leader of the First Order and I was a wanted criminal. We were enemies.”

“We weren’t enemies,” Ben insisted, still kneeling in front of her on the floor.

“No. This bond did complicate that,” She relented as she started pacing again. “I need to figure out what I want from this connection.”

“You’ve had six months!” Ben could tell he was getting desperate as he watched her work herself into a spiral.

“Yes, but six months ago I was also scavenging on Jakku!” She turned to face him and Ben finally stood. The moment was clearly over. “A lot has happened. And what happened between us happened so fast. If I’m honest I’ve been ignoring it for six months. But I can’t anymore. You’re here. And you--” she looked him over and swallowed. “You have desires of your own.”

“What is it exactly that you’re asking me to do?”

“You have more training than I do. Can you block the bond from your end?”

Ben swallowed heavily. “I don’t want to do that.”

Rey actually stomped her foot. “Why is everything about you? I'm interrogated by the Jedi Council and they only want to ask about you. I'm summoned to talk to Yoda today and all he wants to talk about is you. No one asks about me, no one wants anything to do with me unless they're blaming me for dragging _you_ here! And here you are!”

“Are you...mad at me for being here?”

Rey visibly deflated. “No. That’s the point. The Jedi keep telling me this is a problem and I’m...confused. I just need some time...I don’t feel like I’m being unreasonable.”

No, Ben didn’t either. That’s why it hurt so much.

“I’m not asking you to leave, or to stop sitting in on my lessons,” Rey continued when Ben remained silent. “Just, if you can close off part of the bond from your end, will you? I’d like to give this Jedi thing a real go while I have the chance.”

“I thought you had the chance with Luke,” Ben said, numb.

“I never told you, did I? Huh, the bond doesn’t share everything. That’s good to know,” Rey crossed her arms over her chest. “Luke wouldn’t train me. He mostly lectured me on why the Jedi should end.”

This took Ben by surprise. “What?”

“He was so ashamed by what he’d done to you he was willing to let the whole Jedi religion die with him,” Rey told him, matter-of-factly.

“Funny,” Ben scoffed. “That’s not what he implied on Crait.” _I will not be the last Jedi. “_ I think he considered you a Jedi, Rey.”

“But if I don’t consider myself one?”

Ben didn't have a good answer for that. He hadn’t considered himself a Jedi when he was being trained by Luke either.

He reluctantly agreed to _try_ to block the bond. Rey thanked him and left the dojo.

Ben stayed in the dojo, alone, for a long time; thinking. Trying not to be hurt. Trying not to think of this as another rejection. But that was one benefit he got from the bond. He trusted Rey’s internal voice much more than he trusted his own.

There isn't much by way of furniture in the training room. Just the walls and cabinets full of training sabers. But Ben is angry and he has his lightsaber. And somehow he managed to ruin things with Rey again. So he takes his saber to the room.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

The whole Temple felt his tantrum.


	7. our shared paths, unraveling behind us like ribbons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added an 'unplanned pregnancy' tag. It is not and will not be for Rey. It's all Padme. Just trying to cover my bases.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song "Idylls of the King" by The Mountain Goats.

Rey had no memory of ever sleeping beside another being. On the Resistance base she’d listen aptly as Finn and Rose teased each other some mornings about Rose’s snoring and Finn’s restless legs. She couldn’t begin to imagine what that was like. That easy familiarity.

Therefore, when she felt a solid heat at her back late at night she came awake quickly. She should be on guard but the Force is calm; soothing. _There’s no danger here_ it seemed to lull her. _Intruder? What intruder? Just lay back and enjoy this._

It was dark, but the busy artificial lights of Coruscant were slanting through the window of her room with vibrant colors. The mass at her back was breathing deeply in sleep. Either he’s not able to block the bond in sleep or he had no control over the will of the Force.

They must be laying back to back. Although, Rey kept herself from moving to look. She could feel no breath on her skin or any hands touching her. She should wake him. She should disturb the bond somehow. She asked for time, after all.

Instead, selfishly, she scooted closer. Allowed herself to acknowledge the width of his shoulders compared to hers. To appreciate the support of his muscles and bone as she carefully leaned into him. Shoulder to shoulder. Spine to spine.

Rey closed her eyes.

Ben’s breathing changed. Hitched. Quited. Quickened.

“This isn't my doing.” He whispered and Rey wished she could feel his voice reverberate in his back.

She didn't move.

“I know,” she sighed. “We need to find a way to stop this too. Maybe I could ask Master Windu. I could claim it's a training bond.”

She felt Ben snort. “Because Windu will believe that after he saw us in the courtyard earlier.”

Rey flushed at the reminder. Had that really been less than a day ago? “Master Kenobi then.”

Ben was quiet. She didn't need a bond to know he doesn’t agree with her decision. Didn’t need to feel his outburst after she’d left the training room. She wondered how much he owed the Jedi in property damage now.

“Do what you want.” He finally said.

“You think this is easy for me--” Rey turned to face him, ready for an argument. But her shoulder fell through nothing until her back was on the futon. She was alone.

* * *

Rey didn't get much sleep after that. So when the first rays of sunlight found their way to her window she’s up from her futon, dressed, and out of the door. She needed to find Master Kenobi.

It didn't take long to find him. She asked a few other early risers where he might be and within the hour she’s knocking on the door to his living space. It’s still early but, as Rey guessed, Master Kenobi is too courteous to leave a knocked door unanswered. When he came to the door he’s sleep rumpled and blurry eyed.

“Good, you’re awake,” she said while he blinked slowly at her. “Can we talk?”

“Good morning to you too, Rey.” He said with a touch of sarcasm, but he stepped aside to allow her entry into his quarters. Rey hesitated--she had assumed they would go somewhere more public--but entered.

Being a master entitled Master Kenobi to more space than Rey had been allotted. Her room was an open space with a futon, a trunk--for her nonexistent personal effects--and a small ‘fresher attached through a narrow doorway. Master Kenobi presumably had all those courtesies too, but with the addition of a small sitting room and kitchenette.

“Please take a seat,” Master Kenobi said when the door shut behind her. “Could I interest you in a cup of tea?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchenette. "I’m afraid I will not be fully functional until I have one myself.”

“You seem functional to me,” Rey said as she sat. Poor Master Kenobi didn't even have mushroom stools. Just a low, long table and some cushions on the floor. “But I will take one, thank you.”

“Of course.” He busied himself with tea making for a moment and Rey used the time to collect her thoughts. She’d been in such a tizzy that she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. Or if she should. The Jedi were already so against anything to do with her and Ben. Would even hinting at a bond make things worse?

Before Rey could reach a verdict Master Kenobi was placing a cup of tea in front of her.

“There you are, my de--ahem--Rey.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, smiling a bit at his near slip. “I’m sorry for waking you so early.”

Master Kenobi waved a hand dismissively as he sat across from her. “Nonsense, it is the Padawan’s prerogative to rouse any Master from a warm and welcoming bed for anything, at any time, always.”

Rey felt her smile widen as she sipped her tea. It was good. Spicy.

“Have you had many Padawans, Master Kenobi?”

“Just Anakin, officially.”

“I imagine he was a handful.”

“Was. Is. Time is relative, it seems.” He gave her a pointed look over his tea cup. “Was this what you came to talk about so early this morning?”

No. But it was a nice segue. Rey looked at the teacup in her hands. It was handmade; clay, smoothed from being held often.

“As a Master, surely you can tell me. Do the Jedi of this time use training bonds?” Rey honestly had only the vaguest idea what a traditional bond consisted of. She’d seen it mentioned in the books she had... _borrowed_ from Master Skywalker. In those, it was primarily between teachers and their students and was something two Force sensitives worked for years to forge. It was called a training bond, a Force bond, Force chain, or Jedi kinship.

Nothing like what she and Ben shared was mentioned in the Jedi texts.

Master Kenobi gave her a quizzical look. “Some of us do. It is by no means a necessity. Why?”

“Did you have one? With Anakin?”

Master Kenobi carefully set his tea on the table. “A bit. Although, I must confess that Anakin’s ability in the Force far surpasses my own. Therefore, our bond is unstable.” Kenobi shrugged. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. It was stronger when he was a child...why do you ask?”

“Is it possible to have a... _botched_ training bond?” Rey winced. That sounded so fake. There was no way Kenobi would believe her. “With someone you’re not actually apprenticed to.”

He was quiet for a long moment, staring at the steam rising off of his tea. “Is this about Ben Solo?”

“Obviously,” Rey had to really concentrate not to roll her eyes.

Master Kenobi hummed while stroking his beard. “You had mentioned that he offered to train you. But you didn’t mention that the two of you tried to bond.”

They hadn't. It just happened. Whether it was Snoke’s work or the will of the Force, she and Ben hadn’t _tried_ to do anything. But she didn’t think she could tell Master Kenobi that. Instead she said: “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is.” He picked up his tea and Rey took another sip of hers. “What is it, precisely you’re asking?”

“I don’t know how to block it. Normally it’s not an issue but since I’m here and have people willing to teach me.” Rey shrugged. “Well, can you imagine being linked to someone so volatile?”

Obi-Wan gave her a flat stare and Rey’s heart sank. He didn’t believe her.

“One can only speculate,” he said sarcastically.

Rey snickered, relieved.

“Just block it?” Kenobi asked, while she was just starting to relax. “Wouldn’t you rather break it entirely? You’ve said you have no intention of accepting his offer to train you. What use could you have for a Force bond, otherwise?”

Luckily there was an easy answer for this that didn’t involve lying. “We’re friends--allies,” she amended before Kenobi could even form the word _‘attachment’_ in his mind. “I’m...wary of being completely rid of it while we’re in unknown territory.”

“Understandable, considering the circumstances,” Master Kenobi conceded. “We’ll have to work on your shields.”

He had suggested this before, hadn’t he? Rey had not remembered to follow up on the suggestion. Her first few days in this time period had been overtaken by the other Masters, who had been so eager to measure her abilities that she hadn’t actually learnt anything new.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” she said, really meaning it. Being able to block her own mind when she felt like it would put her at ease. Perhaps, Ben would have a easier time accepting that, than her asking him to do it for the both of them.

Master Kenobi inclined his head to acknowledge her thanks. “By all means,” he said with a warm smile. “Call me Obi-Wan, Rey.”

* * *

Ben is summoned to the Jedi Council bright and early the next morning. It chafed a bit, having been Supreme Leader days ago and now having to answer to a group of fools.

Be that as it may, Rey seemed to want to give this a real shot and he won’t ruin it for her...or, at least, he would try not to actively ruin it for her starting now. He has already lost his temper in the Temple; he can’t take that back.

Besides, it’s not like he has any better options.

The set up is the same, minus the Jedi holoing in from the warfront. So really, it was just Yoda, Windu, and Kenobi sitting in a semi-circle waiting for Ben. There are a bunch of empty seats. He took one. Kenobi’s eyes widen. Windu dropped his head into his palm. Yoda glared at him.

Just because he’s not going to ruin it for Rey doesn’t mean he has to make things easy for the Jedi. He has his principles, after all.

“Good morning,” he said, spreading his frame out to fill the seat; arms spanning the back of the chair and legs slayed. It was--his mother had insisted as she reproached him plenty of times during important functions--the most obnoxious way to sit. “You wished to see me.”

“Unstable, you have made my temple!” Yoda was getting right to it this morning. Ben really must have struck a chord.

“If your Jedi are so easily unsettled should they really be fighting a war?” Ben asked, as nonchalantly as he could. He wasn’t meddling in the affairs of the past. He wasn’t. It was a valid question.

“It’s the younglings we’re concerned with.” Kenobi said, in his reasonable way, before Windu could work up the proper vitrol to yell at Ben next. “They are still growing and your, uh--temperament is affecting their balance.”

Ben cringed. Kenobi wasn’t accusing him of anything but the implication hit too close for Ben. He isn’t going to be the reason anyone is tempted to the the dark side. He won’t be the monster whispering promises from the shadows.

“I...I see. That was not my intention.”

“And what exactly was your intention?” Windu finally snapped.

Ben swallowed. It had been a long time since he sincerely felt like he owed someone an explanation for his actions. “I was angry and my temper got the better of me.”

“Know this, I do.” Yoda said with contempt. “Felt this, the whole temple did.”

“You must try to release your anger in less...destructive ways while you are staying here,” Kenobi pleaded.

That sounded like a good way to hang onto his anger until he was either back in his own time or he snapped. Yoda must have seen the reservations on his face.

“During the day, gone from the Temple you will be.” He said with finality. He even pointed a clawed finger at Ben. That was how final this declaration was. Despite it making no sense to Ben.

“And where do you suppose I’ll go?” Ben asked, leaning forward. He wasn’t really keen on seeing the Coroscanti sights, after all.

“We’re willing to send you on a mission,” Windu said, with what sounded like great reluctance.

Ben blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“There is a delegation of senators that are friendly with the Jedi,” Kenobi explained. “They are currently drafting a bill to propose the de-escalation of the war. It’s important that this bill makes it to the Senate floor. However, there are those in the Senate Dome that would…disagree.”

“We’ve made arrangements for you to guard these senators while they work,” Windu finished.

This sounded incredibly boring. “Why me? Shouldn’t you send a Jedi?”

“The Jedi are not, how you say, involved with politics,” Kenobi explained.

“Ah.” Ben wasn’t a Jedi. This way the Jedi could have their bill on the floor without outwardly seeming to care one way or another. “Should the war be de-escalated?”

“Soldiers, the Jedi were not meant to be.” Yoda said, his shoulders falling, as if a heavy weight were settled on them. “Meditate, I have, on the will of the Force. Months, the girl said we have. Months to stop this war or fifty years of conflict, we will create.”

Wasn’t that something? Yoda was actually taking Rey seriously.

“Do you want specifics on how to do that or…?”

Yoda didn’t answer Ben. Just slipped off his seat and walked out of the chamber.

* * *

It was nearing midday when Anakin found Rey in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Obi-Wan had suggested she start her morning with some light meditation there. He claimed the Jedi used the room when they wanted quiet. He used words like ‘serene’ and ‘tranquil’ to describe it.

On the whole, Rey just thought it was a gross waste of water. So she wasn’t actually getting much meditation done when Anakin strolled up to her.

“You’re boyfriend sure does know how to throw a tantrum,” he teased, by way of greeting. Rey breathed deeply through her nose and tried to find that serenity and tranquility that Obi-Wan had mentioned. “Did you see the damage he caused in that training room? What got to him anyway?”

“Is there something you needed?” Rey snapped.

Anakin blinked, clearly taken aback by her tone. “Uh...Obi-Wan asked me to help you. With, um. With your shields. He’s in a council meeting.”

“Then let’s get to it. Come on,” Rey patted a space beside her on the the bench she was sitting on. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Anakin didn’t take the seat. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t want to talk about Ben.”

“I wasn’t asking about--”

“It. I meant I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Uh huh,” Anakin said, crossing his arms and looking at her skeptically. “Did you two get into a fight or something? Is that why he was so angry?”

“What would you know about how angry he was?”

“I am almost _certain_ the whole temple felt that,” he said, rolling his blue eyes at her. “On some level at least. Maybe the younglings wouldn’t be able to pinpoint who it was coming from but--”

“He was--what do you all call it? Releasing his emotions. You know,” Rey waved her hand vaguely in the air, “into the Force.”

“It looked to me like he had released his emotions into the furniture--”

Rey crossed her arms and glared up at him. She was not talking about this with him.

“--and the walls. There were even saber burns on the floor.”

“It’s a training room. There were saber burns on the floor before he got there.”

“If you say so.”

“Anakin,” Rey groaned. “Can we just get to it. I need shields.”

Anakin frowned. “I’m not sure if you’re in the right place for this.”

Rey looked around. “A change of scene might be good for me. I don’t really like this room.”

“No--what? This room is great.”

“If you say so,” she threw back at him.

“I meant you’re not in the right mindset. You’re upset.”

“I am _not--_ ”

“Mildly irritated,” he amended hasily, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Your irritation is mild and bland, like the food Obi-Wan prefers.”

Rey snorted a laugh. “Fine. What do you suggest I do to get into the proper mindset?”

“Well,” Anakin thought about it. “Is there something you do that relaxes you? We could start with that and work our way into the lesson.”

Relaxing? The last time Rey had been relaxed was when she’d meditated with Ben yesterday. But telling Anakin that Ben could help her relax was out of the question.

Although, now that she thought about it, perhaps being near that tree had helped. She’d never spent so much time on a planet with so little in the way of natural life before. Even Jakku had native flora and fauna.

“Unless there’s a forest or an ocean hidden somewhere on this planet,” Rey said wistfully, “I don’t think I’m going to find tranquility.”

“Huh?”

Rey looked at him. Did he really not get it? “I am very tired of durasteel,” she told him. “The planets I’ve been to had more nature.”

“Oh…” Anakin thought about it for a moment. “I think I know just the place.”

* * *

The garden near the Senate building wasn’t exactly what Rey had in mind, but it was probably as close as she was going to get on this planet. It was nice and she was grateful to Anakin for bringing her here but it wasn’t natural. It was tended by gardeners.

Still, this was the first time she had been out of the Jedi Temple since they had landed on Coruscant and she would take her good fortune where she could get it. She tried to find things to like about it while she and Anakin walked the duracrete path that cut through grand flower arrangements and manicured grass and pruned trees.

At least it smelled much better than durasteel and exhaust.

“Can I ask you something?” Rey asked after they’d walked together in silence for a bit. Her former irritation with Anakin was short lived. He reminded her a bit of Poe, who was always nettling people for the sake of it, but who never intended to cause any hard feelings.

“Sure.”

“The Jedi’s view on attachment...What’s that about?”

Anakin glanced at her and away quickly and she would swear there was an anxiety to the gesture.

“The idea is that if the Jedi are not attached they’re less likely to fall,” Anakin told her. “Interpersonal relationships can be used against a Jedi by an enemy or warped and lead them to the darkside.”

“But a person can’t _not_ have relationships,” Rey pointed out. “Children are attached to their parents, at the very least.”

Anakin shrugged too quickly to be nonchalant to Rey’s eyes. “You’re supposed to let that go. It’s part of the reason Jedi don’t take people beyond a certain age. As a general rule. You and I are the exceptions,” he nudged her with his elbow.

Rey didn’t feel playful. In fact, his words reminded her of another issue of hers that she had ignored for too long. “And they made you?” Her voice high and unsettled. “Let your parents go, I mean.”

“They asked,” he said, somberly, reading her mood. “But I didn’t have parents, exactly. It was just my mom and I.”

“Do you still feel attached to her?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry...But that wasn’t what I asked.”

“What about your parents?” Anakin asked, ignoring her question. That’s fine. He didn’t have to share his secrets with her. He’ll just fall to the dark side for some reason that will be a mystery forever.

Rey shrugged. “I didn’t have any to get attached to,” she admitted, as much to him as herself. “Not really.”

“That bad, huh?” Anakin grimaced in sympathy.

“I think I’m still attached to the idea of them,” Rey mused. “Although, I am trying to let that go.”

“There you go. You get it,” he said with a cheerfulness that didn’t show on his face.

“I don’t want to let them go because I think my attachment will cause me to fall. It’s because my attachment is…” Unfounded? Pointless? Fabricated? “Holding me back. It’s like...like a plant,” she gestured to the garden around them. “You have to prune off the dead bits for the whole of it to grow. But I don’t get the impression that is what the Jedi mean.”

Anakin says nothing.

“Do you even know what they mean?” Rey wondered aloud. “I don’t think you do.”

“I never claimed to be a Master,” he told her, his voice strained. “I’m just filling in, remember.”

Rey huffed and turned away. Ben had mentioned that the Jedi were vague and unhelpful. She hadn’t learnt anything from Anakin that she couldn’t have already guessed. Which made her question a good one, in her opinion, at least.

Did Anakin understand it any better than she did?

She glanced at Anakin, sidelong. He was a beautiful man. There were no two ways about it. He was tall, with wiry muscles and an incredibly symmetrical face. If it hadn’t been for that scar, Rey would have claimed it was indeed, perfectly symmetrical. He had a stern brow and a bold jaw and mischievous sky blue eyes.

And in a matter of months he’d be well on his way to being the most feared man in the galaxy. Entombed alive in gruesome suit. A symbol of death and destruction for decades to come.

What’s more, here he was indicating that he had no better idea than she did why the Jedi were so circumspect about relationships within their Order.

Did that have something to do with his fall? Were the Jedi on to something that Rey didn’t realize; simply because she didn’t want to admit that they could be right? Should she abandon her longing for her parents and the hurt they had caused her? Should she keep her friends at a distance? Was the connection she had with Ben harmful and would it lead her straight into her own fall?

Or was she casting her insecurities onto Anakin because it was easy? Easy to see herself in someone she knew would fail so utterly.

Rey shook her head in an attempt to dislodge such useless thoughts. She didn’t miss much about Jakku but sometimes she missed that she didn’t have time to think so much.

All she knew was that she didn’t know Anakin and she should give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t Darth Vader, yet. But he also wasn’t here for her to use to diffuse her insecurities. He was kind and intense and he reminded her of Ben. Just a little bit.

She wondered, vaguely if Ben had been more like this before his fall. So sensitive and guarded.

Suddenly, Rey was caught around the middle and forced behind a perfectly manicured bush.

“What the--”

“Shhhh,” Anakin put a hand over her mouth as he crouched beside her. He let go of her nearly as soon as he’d grabbed her.

Rey tried to stand, to get away, but he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back down. So she kicked him.

Anakin cursed and rubbed his shin.

“ _Do not grab me again_ ,” Rey hissed.

“I need you to be quiet and hide.”

“Obviously. You could have just asked.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to be seen.”

Rey glared at him. She hoped his shin bruises to the bone. “Who are you hiding from?”

“It’s complicated.”

Rey eased up to peek over the hedge. Anakin tried to drag her back down by grabbing her arm and pulling, so she elbowed him in the face.

Finally, free to move Rey looked. There was a woman sitting on a bench in a secluded alcove beyond the plot of bushes they are hiding among. She was alone, as far as Rey could tell.

“That little woman?” She glanced back at Anakin who was rubbing under his eye where her elbow had connected. It was already starting to turn red. “You’re hiding from that little woman?”

“You’d be surprised the damage one little woman could do,” Anakin said drily.

Rey considered him. He didn't seem afraid. He actually looked sort of guilty. She peeked back toward the woman. Rey couldn't make out much from this distance other than that she was elaborately dressed. But there was a certain slump to her shoulders as she sat all alone that Rey was all too familiar with.

“She looks lonely.”

“What? No she doesn’t,” Anakin came up beside her to take a peek.

“Yes she does, look at her shoulders. They’re slumped.”

“That’s not a lonely slump. That’s a tired slump. She works hard.”

Rey shook her head. “Exhaustion is a whole body affair. Look at her. Her posture is perfect. It’s just her shoulders. _That_ is a lonely slump.”

“She does look a bit sad,” Anakin conceded.

Rey made sure she was watching Anakin out of her periphery as she said: “Disappointed, even.”

Anakin glanced at her and quickly away.

“What did you do?” She demanded, crouching back down behind the bushes.

Anakin joined her, groaning and putting his face in his palm--apparently forgetting that he was working toward a bruise, if the soft “ow” Rey heared from his hands is any indication. “She’s been comm-ing me.”

Rey waited.

“I still haven’t comm-ed her back.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

Of course it was. “I once knew a married couple who didn’t speak for seven years because it was _complicated_."

Rey had no idea why she said that but it certainly had an effect on Anakin. His eyes widened and his mouth formed a small ‘Oh.’

“Did they love each other?” He asked. “Even after all those years apart?”

“I think so….do you love that little woman?”

Anakin gave her an unimpressed look. “Go wait for me by the speeder.” With that he extracted himself from the bushes.

Rey waited a moment before she crept out of the bushes and doubled back toward where Anakin had parked the speeder. She would allow him his privacy.

* * *

Padme is resplendent in the garden. Even if her heavy senatorial robes are incongruous with the heat of the day.

“Anakin,” she breathed when she spotted him walking toward her. Her eyes widen with surprise and delight and then squint when he got closer. “What happened to your face?”

“Oh this?” Anakin put a hand over the spot Rey had hit him. It was hot to the touch. “It’s a, ah--insect sting.”

Padme stood and put a hand over his own in sympathy, before looking around scrupulously and pulling him behind a tree, a ways off of the path. Once hidden she pulled him to her, their lips met and the past five months fell away. Anakin shucked them off gratefully.

It was just Anakin and Padme. No war, no fear, no duty, no stress, no politics, no doubt in his mind. Nothing in the whole galaxy but her lips on his, her arms around his neck, and the press of her body to his.

Force, how he has missed this. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him; hauled her off her feet. She smelled like blossoms and felt like home in his arms. Why had he delayed this? Why had he put off comm-ing her? Why hadn't he go to her the second his feet touched Coruscant?

Padme broke the kiss far too soon but stayed in his embrace with a pleased sigh.

“Ani, I called and called.” She spoke into the crook of his neck, clinging in a way that was decidedly unlike Padme.

Perhaps Rey had been correct. Something about Padme was...off.

“There’s been an incident with a rogue Jedi,” Anakin told her, snaking an arm up to stroke her back. “I couldn’t get away. What’s wrong? You’re trembling.”

Padme slide out of his arms but his hands lingered at her waist...his fingers used to reach a lot farther around...

“Something wonderful has happened,” she told him but her face is pinched with worry. “Ani, I’m pregnant.”

There are a host of emotions that Anakin Skywalker felt in that moment. It started with unimaginable joy. Of course it did.

Then came everything else.

Padme couldn't be pregnant. This galaxy was home to Sith and slavers and suffering. He couldn't be a father. He had failed as a Master. He had failed Ahsoka.

He wasn’t a good husband either. No one knew they are married. He and Padme had always hidden that part of their lives because of their duty to the Republic. Not unlike he had hidden behind those bushes with Rey.

How could he claim Padme’s child when he couldn't bring himself to claim Padme? Or she him? He will be cast out of the Jedi Order. She will be called back to Naboo by her Queen.

As much as Anakin would love to stop hiding his marriage he couldn't because he loved being a Jedi, all things considered. And Padme loved the work she does. Anakin and Padme have never been willing to sacrifice a single part of themselves for another part of themselves. They were in agreement on this. They could have and do it all. Through the sheer force of their will.

A child will demand sacrifice from every part of their lives. Being parents will change them. It may even ruin them.

They will never again be the Anakin and Padme they were yesterday.

They have created something more than either of them.

He didn't share his fears with Padme.

“That’s--that’s wonderful.”

“What are we going to do?” She asked him with distress in her voice and trust in her large brown eyes.

Anakin had no choice but to smile in the face of her worry. He needed to reassure Padme. He could do that much.

“We’re not going to worry about anything right now,” he told her, cupping her face in his hand and putting a smile on his face. “This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.”

What are they going to do?

* * *

Anakin was silent when he returned to the speeder; his eyes were downcast and his brow furrowed.

“Something wrong?” Rey asked. Anakin stopped and looked at her and looked at her...His eyes were bright and feverish.

Without saying a word, Anakin shook his head and climbed into the speeder. Rey followed, curious but unwilling to press the subject.

They rode for a while in silence.

“Have you ever had a secret that would ruin you if it got out?” Anakin asked, quietly, he wasn’t looking at her.

She thought about all those months between Ahch-To and now. Everything that had happened to her and how much of it she couldn’t share with Finn. Like having a connection with Kylo Ren. Her enemy, but not. “Yes.”

“How do you stand it?” He asked, a miserable whine to his voice.

“For a while I just tried not to think about it,” Rey admitted. “But that doesn’t work for long.”

“What if it got out?”

Rey shrugged, aiming at nonchalance and missing it by leagues. “It’s bound to someday. Nothing stays a secret forever. When it does...I guess, I hope I’m the one sharing it. If I’m the one speaking the truth then I control it. Not the other way around.”

“How would you share it?” Anakin seemed genuinely interested.

Rey thought about it. “Maybe start small? Tell people I really trust. Or who wouldn’t care.” She realized that she had already started doing this before she was whisked away by the Force. Chewie, at least, knew there was more between she and Kylo Ren than she was willing to share outright.

Anakin fell silent until they were back at the Temple. Then he shut down the speeder and turned to face her. “Can I share something with you? Not because I trust you, but because I don’t think you’d care.

“Sure.” Sometimes it could be good to share. She’d learnt that when she and Ben had first connected and he’d looked around at her memories. Sure, she hadn’t actually wanted to share any of that with him, at the time. But in hindsight, it was refreshing for someone else to know how difficult things had been for her. It was nice to have someone who she didn’t have to put up pretense with.

Besides, she had gotten more than even with him for that initial intrusion.

“I’m going to be a father.”

“Oh.” Rey hadn’t been expecting that. Luke and Leia were already on their way, huh? Together, as a Luke and Leia suggestion of cells inside an unknown--to Rey--woman. Probably the little woman in the garden, if she was forced to guess. “Congratulations.”

Anakin stared at her with an expression that Rey could only describe as: dumbstruck. “...I don’t think you understand.”

“What? Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I’m happy. This is the happiest day of my life.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“It’s just...a lot.” Anakin flopped back into his seat with a huff. “The timing is terrible. With the war and all.”

“Timing has a funny way of being terrible,” she told him matter-of-factly. “If you would have asked about your future I could have eased you into it.”

“What?”

“Parenthood. I could have told you it would happen fairly soon. Although, I honestly didn’t know it’d be happening while I was here. But I guess the Council told you not to ask, huh?”

Anakin turned to look at her as she spoke. She was wrong. _This_ was a dumbstruck expression.

“You know my future?” He asked, awed. “Wait. The Council? The Council knows you know my future!”

Rey blinked, confused by his reaction. “Well...maybe not yours _specifically_. Master Yoda was pretty adamant about not asking questions. He claimed I was from an alternate timeline. The gall of that one. Why are you acting like--Oh no, they didn’t tell you. Did they?” Rey covered her mouth immediately with both hands. Horrified at her own foolishness.

“ _Are_ you from an alternate timeline?”

Rey didn’t speak.

“Rey,” Anakin’s voice was durasteel. “You know my future.” Now those scared, confused eyes had a hardness to them that she didn’t like one bit. “Tell me.”

Rey shook her head. She’d messed things up enough as it was. And for the first time she could see Darth Vader in the face of Anakin Skywalker. He looked like a predator who had scented prey. And she was afraid. Honestly, and truly afraid. For some reason she hadn’t expected this from him.

Instinctually, she reached for Ben through their bond. It was closed to her. She had asked for it to be. She was alone.

Anakin was leaning toward her, crowding her space. Rey refused to give him an inch. She removed her hands from her mouth and tried to open the speeder door. It wouldn’t budge. Probably Anakin’s doing.

Anakin raised a hand to her temple. This was disconcerting but so familiar that she knew what was coming.

He pushed his way into her head.

No one had explained shielding to her yet. She didn’t know the Jedi way to do this. But Rey had survived on her instincts and tenacity for years. She couldn’t build a wall in her mind; she didn’t know how.

She didn’t want to use the same technique on Anakin that she had used on Ben on Starkiller Base. What if _that_ was how the bond had been created? She couldn’t chance it with Anakin.

She had to use what was available to her. She had information and she could shield herself with that.

He wanted to know his future? Fine.

So Anakin Skywalker entered her mind and ran straight into Darth Vader, as Rey imagined him. Terrible and tall, with a red saber ready and his infamous mechanized breathing echoing. Rey had her imagined Vader fling Anakin out of her mind.

In the speeder Anakin blinked at her, sweat drenching his brow. He wasn’t crowding her anymore. He was as far away from her as the speeder would allow.

“How are you this powerful?”

Rey was very much done humoring Skywalkers. She called his lightsaber to her and shoved it under his chin. She leaned close, crowding him now.

“If you _ever_ shove into my mind, or push my body around again, I will show you how powerful I am.”

Anakin swallowed, but all he asked was: “Are you going to tell Obi-Wan?”

Rey sneered and leaned away from him. “I’m going to tell him you didn’t teach me how to shield,” she grumbled.

Anakin blinked at her in disbelief. “That monster wasn’t a shield?”

Rey considered not answering as she exited the speeder. Before closing the door on Anakin, still crowded against the opposite door she reminded him: “Don’t forget that you asked.”


	8. feels so good to have you here (some of you will be dead next year)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hamming up the similarities in appearance between Padme and Leia. I know Carrie Fisher and Natalie Portman don't look that much alike but it's fanfiction.
> 
> Someday I'll stop breaking one in-fic day into two chapters....today is not that day.
> 
> Chapter title from the song "Steal Smoked Fish" by The Mountain Goats.

Ben had never given Bail Organa much thought as one of his many passed away grandparents. He was someone Leia hadn't liked talking about unless she was the one to bring him up. And her melancholy, nostalgic moods rarely matched up with his eager-for-information moods.

Bail Organa was someone Ben had to think about now, as he had been tasked by the Jedi Council to assure that Bail and a few other senators issued their bill in the Senate without interference.

It was a bill regarding de-escalation of fighting. Ben didn’t think it mattered over much, the fighting would stop when it stopped.

Still, it was nice to get out of the Temple. Rey wanted time to think and the best way Ben could think to give her that was to be nowhere near her. Ben didn’t like keeping the bond closed but he kept reminding himself that her request wasn’t really about him. It was difficult. But Rey was worth it.

So, Windu let him borrow a speeder. With the not-so-subtle implication that if Ben were to use it to go anywhere but the Senate Dome and back to the Temple, Windu himself would hunt him down with extreme prejudice.

Ben couldn't help but admire Windu’s unwavering distrust of him. It was refreshing, honestly. Compared to the calm mysticism that Ben had grown used to under Luke.

If there had been Jedi like Master Windu around when Ben had been a Padawan...well. He may have wanted to be a Jedi.  

Bail meet Ben outside the Senate Dome. He was a bit put off, initially, to realize that they were of a height. He couldn't pinpoint why this threw him. Perhaps, because he’d always thought of Bail as Leia’s father and she was such a tiny woman. Ben knew they weren’t related biologically but Bail was the only father Leia would claim and she had never declared any similarities between Bail and her only child. Even something as trivial as height.

Then again, when was the last time Ben had stood beside his mother?

Bail didn't notice Ben’s discomfort. He greeted him with a slight bow, introduced himself, and thanked Ben for being there. Ben returned his bow and said something about hoping a need for him doesn’t actually arise.

Bail laughed goodnaturedly and showed him into the Senate Dome.

“I must confess,” Bail said as they walk through the busy hallways. Ben had been in this building the day before, to have lunch with the Chancellor, but he and Anakin had parked in Palpatine’s personal landing pad and were able to miss all the hubbub of the Senate Dome proper. It took him in this time, as staffers and senators of numerous species bobbed and weaved around him and his grandfather.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when Obi-Wan told me he could send a rogue Jedi to our aid.”

Ben rolled his eyes. Of course, his namesake wouldn’t want to provoke suspicion by telling the truth.

What was that phrase Luke had always credited Kenobi with saying? Something about perspectives? Ben couldn’t remember off the top of his head. He’d have to think about it.

“I must confess,” he told Bail. “I don’t think of myself as a rogue Jedi. Or a Jedi at all, for that matter.”

“Excellent!” Bail exclaimed, much to Ben’s surprise. He even clapped him on the shoulder. “That’ll make your being here less of an issue.”

Oh. Right. That.

“Do the Jedi often do favors for senators?”

Bail removed his hand and gave a bodily shrug; shoulders and arms and hands turned up in a what-can-you-do gesture. “I wouldn’t say often, but…there are a few senators who have a knack for finding trouble. I won’t name any names, of course. Suffice it to say that the Jedi have had to perform their fair share of rescues.”

Ben scoffed but couldn’t help the small smile that spread. This man reminded him so much of his mother, in this moment, that it was difficult not to.

“Seeing as _you’re_ on a first name basis with General Kenobi I might know the name of _one_ trouble-making senator already.”

Bail’s laugh at this wasn’t the polite, chuckle of a politician. It was a boom. He clapped Ben on the shoulder again.

All of his easy familiarity was, maybe making Ben’s head spin. After days--and let’s face it, years--of being avoided at all costs. It was a lot to take in. 

“Shrewd, aren’t you?” Bail asked. “Good. In my experience, that always comes in handy.”

Ben was starting to think that he had this diplomacy thing down pat, then they step into the conference room that this delegation of senators were using for the foreseeable future and Ben’s heart stopped.

Perhaps it was because Bail had put him in mind of his mother anyway but he swore she was in the corner conferring with a younger Mon Mothma.

Ben tried to blink away the image. He didn’t sleep very well after his argument with Rey, he must be seeing things.

She’s still there. Small in stature and larger than life.

* * *

_From a certain point of view._

That was the phrase he was trying to think of earlier. The one Kenobi had coined that stayed with Luke like an oil stain on a favorite shirt.

The senator looked like his mother--from a certain point of view.

There are differences. Ben notices them through the day, as he watched the senators work.

The Leia-look-alike wears dark, shapeless senatorial robes.

Leia always wore white as a senator.

This woman was wearing some kind of headdress.

Leia would never. Leia wore elaborate Alderaanian hairstyles.

Also, Leia was…she’s a pillar. She’s solid and steadfast.

This woman was isolated. Even as she clearly worked well with others. She smiled often but it was off; thin. She was like a poor Leia sculpture. One that was already starting to show cracks.

It took Ben longer than it probably should have to figure out who this woman was. This was, more than likely, Leia and Luke’s biological mother. Anakin Skywalker’s lover. His grandmother…

He hadn’t even considered meeting her. Hadn’t thought of her at all. All he knew about this woman was that she had been a Queen of Naboo and then she was their representative in the Senate. He knew that she died. He didn't know when or how.

He didn't even know her name.

She would be a casualty in letting destiny play out as it once had. He realized this with an alarming clarity that could only have come from the Force. If he let Anakin Skywalker fall--if the Empire rose--this woman would die.

The knowledge settled uneasily over Ben.

He shouldn’t care.

She looked like his mother. She voiced her opinions with a richness and clarity that spoke volumes about the depth of thought she’d put into her words. She disappeared during their lunch break while the other senators ate, in happy, oblivious cliques.

Near the end of the day she offered him a cup of caf. She smiled at him as he took it from her small, steady hands; like they were sharing a secret. Like she was glad that Ben had spent the day with her, listening to senators quarrel. Like they were in this together.

He shouldn’t care.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi was used to being accosted by young and temperamental Padawans. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, after only half a day of dealing with young Rey and then temperamental Ben Solo and _then_ being asked to help with a class of younglings, he was rather looking forward to an afternoon of tea and relaxation.

In fact, he had just set the brew aside to seep and was pulling up a holonovel on his datapad that he’d been meaning to read for ages, when there was an insistent knocking on his door.

He sighed. There was a button that had a soothing chime that someone could ring….It was literally the only function of said button.

But alas, the banging persisted.

With another weary sigh Obi-Wan put aside the datapad and went to the door. On the other side was a very irate Rey.

“Don’t you _ever_ send Skywalker to teach me anything ever again!” She yelled this while shaking a lightsaber at him.

“Wha--Is that Anakin’s lightsaber?”

Rey looked at the object in her hand as though she had forgotten she was holding it. With a huff she thrust it at Obi-Wan and stormed off down the hall.

“Why do you have Anakin’s lightsaber?”

“Because he doesn't deserve it!” She yelled before disappearing around a corner and out of Obi-Wan’s sight.

Well that was a bit harsh.

Obi-Wan looked at the lightsaber in his hand.

He looked forlornly at his steadily cooling tea.

With a sigh he want to find Anakin.

* * *

He wasn’t difficult to find. Anakin’s favorite place to sulk was in the hangar with his R2 unit. Which was exactly where he was. Sulking in the hangar and scrubbing R2-D2 to a ludicrous shine.

“I believe this is yours.” Obi-Wan offered Anakin his saber and watched as his face blanched.

“What’d she tell you?” He asked, carefully, reaching for the saber and clipping it securely on his belt.

“I rather think I’d like to hear what happened from you,” Obi-Wan said, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robes.

Anakin needn’t know that Obi-Wan didn’t have the slightest clue what had happened to set Rey off. (He was honestly of the opinion that it didn’t take much. Which would make sense, as Obi-Wan now knew the nature of her connection to Ben. Surely that darksider was bleeding his temperament over to Rey’s end of their bond.)

Obi-Wan had learnt, from years of dealing with Anakin and his moods, that he was an inherently honest individual. Given half the chance and a few pointed remarks, he’d tattle on himself.

With a groan Anakin picked up the wire brush and went back to work on R2--who chirped cheerfully. “I don't know what came over me, Master,” he said forlornly. “I didn't mean to...well. It’s just--I shouldn’t have done it.”

Well, now Obi-Wan _was_ concerned. He’d been thinking they had had a tiff, but Anakin’s guilty concious seemed more like he’d attacked the girl. And he still had no clue exactly what had happened.

“Why did you?”

Anakin set aside the wire brush again and inhaled deeply. “She knew things about me, Master. I handled it badly.”

“How so?”

“I wanted to know the extent of what she knew. I _was_ supposed to teach her how to shield her mind.”

Obi-Wan’s heart sank. “Oh, Anakin. Don’t tell me you went into her head again.”

“Don’t worry,” Anakin held up his hands placatingly. “She’s a fast learner. As soon as she realized my intent wasn’t teaching she--”

Anakin stopped, a far away look on his face.

“Anakin?”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan and seemed to come back to himself. “She protected herself.”

“She shielded her mind?” Obi-Wan stroked his beard. He should punish Anakin for this violation but he looked regretful enough for now. “I must say, her learning curve is phenomenal. It’s easily on par with your own. I wonder what her midi-chlorian count is?”

Anakin fidgeted where he sat. Was there more?

“Master, can the Force...act?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what Anakin meant by that. “All is as the Force wills it.”

“Sure sure,” Anakin waved away the adage. “But the Force can show us dreams about our own future. Like it showed me my mother’s death.”

“Yes?” This wasn’t a topic Obi-Wan wished to discuss. His own part in Anakin’s mother’s death was not lost on him.

It was after that unfortunate event that his training bond with Anakin had started to fizzle. In so much as he was unable to read his former Padawan’s moods as easily as he had when Anakin was a child. Now Anakin was an adult and Obi-Wan had to rely on years of companionship instead of a metaphysical connection.

On Anakin’s most moody days Obi-Wan grieved the loss of that bond. It had made things so much easier on him.

“Do you think it could take a more direct approach to warning us?”

“Well, I suppose,” Obi-Wan hedged, not sure where Anakin was going with this. “All things are possible through the Force.”

“Even say...time travel?”

Obi-Wan dropped all pretense of being the wise Jedi Master. “She told you.”

Anakin threw his arms up in exasperation. “Thank Force someone did! The Force is throwing people through space and time now and you didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”

“It’s complicated,” Obi-Wan said, finally sitting down at Anakin’s level.

Anakin rolled his eyes at him. Obi-Wan chose to ignore that.

“We don’t know anything about how they got here.”

“What about why?”

Obi-Wan really shouldn’t tell Anakin. The Council had all agreed to keep this on a need-to-know basis. Obi-Wan was on the Council. He had helped make the decision to not tell anyone. He knew it was a bad idea. And yet...

“Rey claims the war is still being fought fifty years from now. As for the details on how or why that’s the case--” Obi-Wan shrugged helplessly.

Anakin balked. “That’s--That is _some_ warning of impending doom.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree.

* * *

Rey wasn’t expecting the anger. Not like this.

She had been too nice to Anakin. The first time he’d brushed her mind--on the transport, days ago--she should have done more. Done what exactly she wasn’t sure.

When Ben had invaded her mind for information she’d pushed back; rattled his confidence. He never tried it again.

She hadn’t done anything to Anakin because...what? He appeared guileless and she’d forgotten that he was Darth Vader? She’d forgotten to take him seriously?

She’d never had that issue with Ben. When he was a threat to her she knew it immediately. He was genuine like that. There wasn’t any artifice to him. He only ever deceived himself.

Anakin’s duplicity was wholly new to her, mostly because she wasn’t sure he was intentionally trying to trick her. Could he be the honorable Jedi Knight _and_ someone who was so selfishly single minded he attacked an ally for information? How did he justify those two halves of himself in his head? How did he balance that?

She _felt_ deceived.

That’s why she was angry, she realized. He had made her feel like a fool.

Rey went to her room and barred the door. Surely she’s missing out on a lesson, or several, but she wasn't not up for it. Not now. Not today. If any master wanted her then they could come get her.

But she didn't think it likely.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but when a knock at her door roused her, the lighting from the window suggested she had been asleep for several hours.

Groggily she got up to answer the door. She was half expecting Obi-Wan, finally come to demand answers or smooth things over, but it was Ben on the other side. He took in her bedraggled appearance with uncertainty.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright,” Rey said, trying to neaten her sleep mussed hair. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Did you need something?”

Ben worked his jaw for a moment, like he was chewing over his words. Finally he asked: “Are you hungry?”

What a foolish question. Without answering Rey stepped out into the hallway with him, letting her door slide shut behind her.

“What do you think the fancy Jedi cafeteria is serving tonight?”

“Something bland and unsatisfying, surely,” Ben huffed. “But…” He looked at her.

Earlier that day she had thought that Anakin Skywalker had mischievous eyes. But Anakin’s were mischievous like a boy’s; cheeky and youthful--no matter what dark depths they were hiding on the inside.

Ben’s eyes, in that moment, could be described as mischievous. If one were inclined to refer to delinquents and scoundrels as such. It was like she could watch the bad ideas forming in his head, even without the bond open to warn her.

“I have the access code to a speeder now. If you wanted to go elsewhere to eat.”

It is a bad idea. Rey knew it was a bad idea. But wasn't his worse idea…

“Where too?”

They didn't sneak out so much as they just go and no one stopped them. Ben took her to a restaurant in the lower parts of the city. It was so far down that she was unable to see the black of Coruscant's sky. But there were no stars to see on this planet anyway, too much light on the surface.

The restaurant reminded her of Maz’s cantina, except infinitely more cramped. It seemed more of a Han Solo place than a Ben place. She wondered, briefly--as they claimed a booth as much out of the way as possible--if that’s how Ben knew about this place. If one day (a long time from now) Han would bring his son here and Ben would remember that, fondly, and remember that the food was good.

“Where were you all day?” Rey asked. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the din of the establishment.

Ben’s folded himself into the bench across from her, a table between them. She couldn't see the rest of the patrons beyond his broad shoulders. She tried to trick herself into believing they were alone.

“The Council wasn’t happy with me after last night,” He admitted, wincing.

Last night? For one wild moment Rey thought of him on his knees before her, her fingers in his hair.

“My presence is causing instability,” he continued.

Oh. Right. With everything that had happened, Rey had forgotten that he’d lost his temper.

“They’ve arranged work for me at the Senate Dome.”

“The Senate Dome? What are you doing there?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Ben scoffed. “But they’ve allocated me funds so, let’s order food.”

Ben waved a server droid over to their booth while Rey scanned the menu. She didn't recognize any of the food listed. When Ben noticed her confusion he ordered several dishes and asked for two plates. Apparently intent on sharing. Rey didn't mind. It meant she would get to try a bit of everything.

“I did meet my mother’s adoptive father,” Ben told her after they'd ordered. “He’s a senator.”

“He died when Alderaan was destroyed?” Rey guessed. She didn't even bother to pitch her voice low. If anyone but Ben can hear her in this noise then they deserved to know what the future held. Or they'd think she was out of her mind.

Ben nodded. “He’s their representative in the senate.”

“Politics runs in your family, doesn’t it?” Politics. The Dorce. Dramatics.

“You’ve no idea,” he rolled his eyes but then said, softly: “My mother’s birth mother is also a senator.”

Wow. Politics really _did_ run in his family. “Did you meet her too? I think I saw her today.”

“I think I did. I don’t know enough about the woman to be certain--other than she looks like my mother.”

“That seems like good evidence to me.” Rey wondered what it was like to look at a stranger and see the features of another. To see your own, even.

“Where’d you see her?” Ben asked while she was silently picking out features of his that originated from Han or Leia. Just to see if she could.

“Anakin took me to the senate gardens to help me get into the mindset of learning, or something like that.” Rey rolled her eyes. “Anyway, he ditched me to go talk to some woman.”

Ben snorted. “He really is something else.”

Rey looked down and picked at her nails. If she was going to tell Ben about Anakin’s outburst, now would be the time.

“I --” Rey hesitated. The bond was closed. She didn't have to share everything with Ben. Not if she didn't want to. Not all at once, anyway.

“What is it?” Ben asked.

“I accidently told Anakin about us,” Rey blurted out.

Ben looked confused. “About...us?”

“About where we are from.”

“Oh. That.”

Rey heaved a heavy sigh. “It didn’t occur to me that he didn’t already know. I brought it up in casual conversation.”

“I bet that was entertaining,” Ben said, a smile playing at his lips.

She could tell him. It was the smile that kept her from it. Ben so rarely smiled.

“It was embarrassing,” Rey insisted.

It wasn’t entertaining or embarrassing. But Rey could make up her own version of events. If she wanted to. Just this once.

Ben’s smile grew, taking in Rey’s fabrication. Making it feel closer to reality.

“How did he take it?”

“Dramatically,” Rey said, smiling. “He is related to you, after all.”

Ben laughed at that and Rey laughed with him. Their food is brought out shortly after.

It was uncomplicated and fun. Perhaps this _was_ an alternate universe, if her relationship with Ben Solo is the most uncomplicated part of her life.

She doesn’t tell him about what happened with Anakin. She got the feeling that she could. That he’d take it seriously. That he’d reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, if he knew she’d been entertaining that notion. She was certain (in a way she rarely is about another person) that Ben would have her back.

In that moment (leaning towards each other across a table in a cantina, gorging themselves on flavorful food, drinking until they’re giggly and watching him laugh with her--laugh!) it didn't feel like their connection had anything to do with the bond.

That meant more to her than holding onto her anger. So she let her anger go; and enjoyed herself.   

* * *

Anakin tossed and turned for a long time that night. Guilt and worry and a wholly unfamiliar emotion ate at him.

Rey had shown him a monster. Sent it to guard herself from him. To guard her knowledge. What was it she’d said? That he’d asked. But he hadn’t asked for that. He’d asked to see his future.

And then there was Obi-Wan talking about her strength in the Force. Wondering about her midi-chlorian count. Even Ben had called her strong.

Anakin was the strongest Force user in known history. His midi-chlorian count was off the charts.  

She was from the future.

He was going to be a father.

When the thought first occurred to him as he and Obi-Wan spoke in the hangar he’d had the uncomfortable thought that Padme might be pregnant with Rey at the moment but Obi-Wan had said fifty years, putting that theory to a swift end.

Still, the coincidences were peculiar. A tenacious desert child...exemplary with the Force...there was even a passing resemblance to Padme.

Rey _could_ be related to them. His child’s child, maybe?

But if so, how long before the truth outed? Then the Council would know he’d be a father in the future.

Or, of more pressing concern, Obi-Wan would check her midi-chlorian count out of curiosity and see it was high. Because of course it would be. How could it not be high? Would he think to compare it with Anakin’s? From there a blood test tell if they were related.

Anakin would need to keep a close eye on Rey or else her presence here could ruin everything.

Uneasy as he was, Anakin did finally find sleep. He had the most terrible dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself. I'm not sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> Don't yell at me about ReySky. She's not a Skywalker. I just thought it'd be funny if Anakin thought so for a little while.


	9. raising from the grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly fluff. 
> 
> Chapter title is from the song "There will be No Divorce" by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> Also, I'm playing fast and loose with Naboo customs and traditions.

Padme’s bed had become a home to every pillow or cushion in her apartment. So much so that Padme barely fit. Still, no matter how she squished, punched, or fluffed them they weren't Anakin. She doesn’t sleep well. She hadn’t for months.

She could blame her insomnia on the stress of the war, making her mind run long after it should rest, or on her pregnancy and this new and highly uncomfortable shape her body has grown into. She could blame it on the work she still had to do or the baby quickening (tossing and turning in the cramped space her body had made available--a foot in her bladder, ribs, spine) or the fact that she's lonely. She could blame it on a million different things and they’d all bare some responsibility; some truth.

Instead, Padme doesn’t examine it at all. She simply claimed what amount of sleep would come and got up when she noticed the sky outside her window lightening and started a new day. Awake and adorned and on her way to the Senate Dome.

Sleepless Padme Naberrie is hidden away; contained under layers of duty and fabric. Padme Amidala got to work.

She was very aware that she was working on a deadline. This petition would take a while to compile, as she and Mon Mothma try to wrangle up enough signatures to present it to the Senate. It had started with a draft for peace, but the problems of the Republic were so much bigger than that. They needed to be addressed, and quickly, if they were to have a functioning democracy after the war had ended. It started with voicing concerns over the way Chancellor Palpatine had claimed executive powers and altered the Galactic Constitution.

It wasn’t happy work, Padme had known Sheev Palpatine for many years and he had been a, sort of, mentor to her when she had first started her political career. She respected Palpatine. But he’d pushed past the limits of her trust in an elected official. She couldn’t turn a blind eye to how his actions during wartime had placed the Republic in a precarious position. In her concern of this, at least, she wasn’t alone. She already had a few hundred signatures. She could get more.

This morning she was the only one in the conference room that some members of the Loyalist Committee had commandeered as an operations center. It was too early for most senators to be in the Senate Dome. Padme liked the stillness of the empty room--she got some of her best work done outside of regular hours.

She wouldn’t get work done this morning. Not if this baby had any say about it.

The baby delivered a swift kick to her abdomen, causing a sharp pain.

“Oh!” Padme doubled over, her hands instinctively going to her stomach. Distantly she heard the datapad she’d been reading messages on clatter to the floor.

She groaned.

That was going to be difficult to pick up.

At least no one was here yet, because right this moment her world had narrowed down to her and her growing child. The pain usually passed after the baby settled. So Padme stood, hand on her belly, and waited.

It was no good. It felt like the baby was stretching out--stretching her, making room. Was that _another_ foot in her bladder? What was this baby? A contortionist?

Without a thought Padme opened the front of her senatorial robes so she could get access to the thinner fabric of the light dress she wore underneath, so she could begin rubbing her belly in a slow, soothing motion. She focused on taking slow and even breaths.

She was very much used to wearing several layers. She’d been doing so for nearly half her life. Her mother used to tell her that the Queen of Naboo carried the weight of office and her outfits reflected that. Padme wasn't queen anymore but she'd never really dropped the weight.

These days Padme just felt heavy. Her body didn't feel much like hers. It certainly didn’t _look_ like hers, she noted as she glanced down at her protruding stomach. She couldn’t see her feet.

It wouldn’t be much longer now.

And she had no plans.

And Anakin hadn’t even commed last night.

And he had left so quickly after she’d told him about the pregnancy. What if he wasn’t--

No. Now was not the time to think about that.

Still, the baby seemed to pick up on her agitation because it started kicking up a ruckus again.

“Come on,” Padme pleaded with her stomach, rubbing circles that were a bit more frantic than soothing. “Give me a break. Please.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t her who spoke. Padme turned to the direction of the voice and there was the guard that Obi-Wan had sent--what was his name? Solo, she thought--standing in the doorway and staring at her. And she was standing with her heavy robes open and her big pregnant belly on display.

He blinked down at her, clearly caught off guard. Padme had the thought that she’d done a better job of hiding her pregnancy than she’d assumed, if he was this surprised to find her so. Oh well, all that work was shot now.

So Padme burst into tears.

It really was very unlike her--she never emoted so much in front of strangers--but she was very uncomfortable and very heavy and very tired (and very anxious and very lonely and very frustrated and very stressed and very scared) and now she was hyperventilating.

“Oh! Hey, no! No. No.” Suddenly Solo was in front of her, bent nearly double to look at her.

Padme covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t help it.

“What--What do you need?” Solo continued.

“I need to sit down,” Padme murmured into her hands. She really did. The baby would not stop moving and now she felt incredibly weak. Like her legs were barely supporting her. First she had to calm down enough to show her face.

Before she could gather herself she heard an awful scraping sound. Surprised, she peeked between her fingers.

Solo wasn’t going to wait for her to calm down and find her own seat. He was dragging a large, comfortable-looking chair to her. Padme had no control over the giggle that escaped her mouth at the sight but it helped calm her.

Solo sat the chair right behind her so all Padme had to do was give her legs a break. Taking a deep breath she righted her senatorial robes and sank gratefully into the seat.

“Thank you,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster with her voice tear-thick and her nose dripping.

Solo knelt in front of her. “Can I get you anything else?” He asked, looking up at her, his brow furrowed with concern. Something about his eyes caught her notice, she couldn’t say what. His large hands were balled into fists at his sides. She’s clearly upset him very much with her display.

Padme shook her head in the negative. She tried to get a grip on herself, but her eyes were still leaking and her breaths were still shaky.

They were both quiet for a moment, giving her time to expel whatever had come over her. She closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at him watching her cry. He didn't touch her, didn't offer physical comfort that she’d likely shy away from anyway, but he didn't move away from her either. She’s grateful for the silence--for the time.

Solo ruined it. When her breaths come out more evenly he asked: “Are you alright?” in a hushed, worried voice.

Padme looked at him, still crouched in front of her. His eyes were concerned. He had such familiar eyes…

It had been so long since anyone had asked after her wellbeing. It’d been so long since Padme had let herself take stock of it.

Wa she alright?

No.

She didn't answer Solo’s question aloud. Her silence was probably answer enough.

* * *

For the second day in a row Obi-Wan is woken by someone banging on his door.

Force, help him, he almost hoped it was urgent news from the warfront and not a pesky, time-traveling troublemaker.

He had already been woken in the middle of the night by an irate Mace Windu because Rey and Ben Solo had decided to go out of the Temple without informing anyone. He agreed with Mace that it was dangerous for two people with knowledge of the future to be drinking in a cantina on the lower parts of Coruscant. Especially, when there was an unknown Sith still at large. But, for Forces sake, she wasn’t _his P_ adawan. What did Mace expect him to do? Scold her for relieving stress? Obi-Wan himself let loose with a few drinks now and again.

The banging continued. If anything it became more insistent.

That was definitely Rey. He was becoming accustomed to the sound of her fists on his door. He really should show her where that buzzer was.

With a groan Obi-Wan hauled himself out of bed. He had told her that this was any Padawan’s prerogative, after all.

He had been correct in his assumption: it was Rey. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him when he answered the door.

“Are you going to get around to teaching me how to shield my mind today or do you have more council meetings to get to?”

“Good morning to you too, Rey,” Obi-Wan said, pointedly. “Will this be part of our morning routine? I only ask so I can have the tea ready tomorrow.”

Rey rolled her eyes and Obi-Wan stood aside to let her enter. She sat in the same spot she had sat yesterday--arms still crossed--and looked at him expectantly.

“Tea?”

“Shielding?”

Obi-Wan hummed, turning to his kitchenette. He was still having tea, after all. “I was under the impression that you learnt that already.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“Anakin did,” he called, filling the kettle with water. “He said you blocked his entry.”

“He told you what he did?” Rey’s voice was hard. Obi-Wan stilled his movements long enough to glance in her direction. Her arms were still crossed and her expression was thunderous.

Obi-Wan spoke carefully. “He did.” There was a long, pregnant pause in which Obi-Wan put the kettle on to boil and prepared the leaves and teapot.

“And you’re alright with that?” Rey finally asked. Her voice carefully neutral, in a way that told Obi-Wan he’d better answer correctly.

So he answered honestly. “No. I’m not,” Obi-Wan turned to face her, leaning against the counter beside the stove top. Unconsciously, crossing his own arms. “I won’t excuse his actions. However, from his account it appears that you were very effective at shielding.”

Rey glowered. “I’m saying I’m not. There’s a difference between defending myself and blocking a bond. Or did you forget that’s why I need shields?”

“I had not forgotten. I fail to see the difference.”

“I can’t use my knowledge of the future to ward off Ben,” she said slowly. As though she were talking to an imbecile. If she _were_ his Padawan he’d scold her for her tone.

As it was, she was not his Padawan and what she meant was of more interest to him than what she said. (Or how).

“Is that what you did? I suppose fifty years of war makes for a very grim future,” Obi-Wan begun stroking his beard thoughtfully. Force help him, he hadn’t even had a chance to comb it yet. “No wonder Anakin was so out of sorts when we spoke.”

“Are you certain he told you what happened?” She asked, her voice raising an octave in apparent disbelief. “Because you don’t seem to care at all.”

“He didn’t know about your situation,” Obi-Wan pointed out and watched as Rey reverted to scowling at him. “Your claims about knowing the future set him off. He’s dealt with something similar in the past. It didn’t end well.”

Rey’s scowl turned into a sneer as Obi-Wan talked.“You’d justify just about anything for him. Wouldn’t you?”

Obi-Wan spluttered in shock. “You misunderstand--”

“Beware of your attachments, Master Kenobi,” she said, snidely. “You wouldn’t want to be tainted by them.”

Obi-Wan was saved from having to think up a response to that by the kettle whistling.

“You’re point is taken,” he told her, turning back to his tea. “I will oversee _proper_ lessons in shielding for you. Starting today.”

While Obi-Wan was pouring the steaming water over the leaves he heard rustling. He glanced over to see Rey raising.

“Thank you so much for your _consideration_ ,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I will endeavor to make myself less of a nuisance to you in the future.”

Obi-Wan found that unlikely. “So that’s a ‘no’ for the tea, then?”

Rey gave him an unimpressed look as she made her way out of the room.

* * *

“Can I talk to you?”

Ben’s grandmother approached him at midday while all the other senators were breaking for lunch. There hadn’t been time that morning to discuss what had happened. Frankly, Ben had assumed she would pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened.

He had intended to come early to check the room for bugs. Or at least that’s what he’d told Windu. He didn’t actually think there would be bugs but he’d gotten an earful from Windu the following night for taking Jedi property off temple grounds without clearance. Windu had revoked his security codes. Ben hadn’t even had them for a whole day. So now every time Ben needed to come to the Senate Dome (for the mission the Jedi had asked him to preform), Windu had personally come down to the hangar and put in the new codes that gave Ben clearance to leave.

So Ben decided to come very, very early.

(He wasn’t actually upset to have lost another sliver of the Jedi’s trust. Last night had been enjoyable and he had seen Rey smile. Not the small smiles she gave out easily to anyone so no one would know how she was really feeling. No, she’d smiled like the most endearing threat display; flashing every tooth in her head up at him until her cheeks dimpled. He had wanted to open the bond so he could feel the emotions behind that smile. But he hadn’t, the memory was sweet enough.)

He hadn’t expected anyone to be at the Senate Dome so early. He hadn’t meant to startle his grandmother.

He had no idea why she had started sobbing but he was a stranger to her. He’d done what he could and then she had put herself together and he’d pulled the chair back and by then there were other senators in the room.

“Of course, Senator Amidala,” Ben said, recalling the name Bail had introduced her as yesterday.

Ben followed her out of the room and down a busy hall and into an office he assumed was hers.

Then he saw C-3PO and nearly choked on his tongue. While Ben was trying to wrap his head around C-3PO’s presence, his grandmother asked the droid to fetch them lunch and he tottled away.

As soon as the door closed behind 3PO, his grandmother wheeled on Ben. “You can’t tell anyone about what you saw this morning.” There was a desperate note to her voice that Ben didn't fully understand.

It caught Ben off guard. He narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. “What did I see this morning? About you crying?”

“No,” she shook her head and Ben’s head ached in sympathy. She had a metal hairpiece in and it had to weigh a ton. He’d wore headgear long enough to know that she couldn’t be comfortable; at least his helmet had never pulled on his hair the way her decorative piece appeared to.

“Not that--well, maybe also that,” she continued, wringing her hands. “I am terribly sorry for how I reacted. I meant that you can’t tell anyone about the--”

Here she used her hands to mimic a big round belly. Which seemed more than a bit redundant, since she _had_ a big round belly hidden away under all of that fabric.

In hindsight this development should have been obvious to him. His mom and uncle had to be _born_ before their mother _died_. He just hadn’t considered the practical implications of that.

“You don’t want me to tell anyone about your pregnancy?” Ben asked, feeling out the sentence in a sort of daze. “Why would anyone have a secret pregnancy?”

She visibly deflated.

“Is it because you’re a public official?” Ben asked, in the face of her dejected expression. “You want privacy? I respect that. It’s not really my business anyway.”

Except it was.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “It means a lot to me.”

So she wasn’t going to elaborate, huh? She was just going to let him draw his own conclusions. Which were obviously not wholly correct; otherwise why had she been so upset that morning?

He really should leave well enough alone. He shouldn’t mettle in this woman’s life. She was doomed, after all.

“Can I say something, Senator Amidala? Before we pretend this didn’t happen?”

“Sure, and please, call me Padme.”

Padme. Ben finally knew her name.

“Padme then,” he agreed. “It’s just--It’s probably not my place to say, since I’ve only been here two days, but I was concerned for you before I knew you were pregnant.”

Padme blinked up at him in confusion. Her eyes were warmer than his and Leia’s.

“How was I worrying you?”

Ben considered what he was trying to say. She likely wouldn't take it well. He didn't know how else to say it.

“My mom used to work like you do,” he told her. “She had the same drive. The same passion. There was just so much for her to do. So much good work that needed to be done. Do you know what my dad would say to her everytime she burnt out?”

Padme crossed her arms; clearly agitated with his obvious angle but too polite to tell him to shut up. “What?” She asked curtly.

“He’d tell her that denying herself rest didn’t make her a hero. That it just made her tired.”

It didn’t look like Padme enjoyed his story very much. “So you’re saying I look tired?”

Leia had never liked it when Han said it either. “I’m saying that you look so tired that _looking at you makes me tired_.”

Padme scoffed at him but she smiled.

“I try to rest,” she told him. Her voice quiet; conspiratorial. Her smile had vanished. “I’ve had trouble sleeping lately.”

Ben knew all about insomnia.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through but if you ever need to talk...” Ben finished the offer with a shrug. It was a dumb offer anyway. He was nothing to her. His interest was probably coming across as incredibly creepy.

Padme eyed him for a moment. “That’s not why we hired you,” she finally said.

Ben shrugged again. “I don’t know a lot of people on Coruscant.”

That was not untrue, but he wasn't exactly here to make friends. Still, the only other person to have ever cried in front of him was Rey. Padme’s moment of vulnerability wasn’t shown to him out of any trust (unearned as Rey’s may have been at the time) but there had been a despondency to it that she had hidden now. Thinking about it made Ben uneasy.

“It might help you sleep,” Ben added. “To get some things off your mind.”

Padme still seemed skeptical but she wasn't outright rejecting his offer.

Before she made a decision C-3PO ambled back into the office carrying their lunches in takeout containers.

“Thank you 3PO,” Padme said, rushing to take the containers out of his barely dexterous hands.

“It was my pleasure, Madam,” the droid intoned with a slight bow.

“Well, Knight Solo,” Padme said, turing to set the containers on her desk. “We may as well eat.”

Ben cringed at the honorific. “It’s Ben,” he said taking the seat across from her. She’d found a couple of utensils and had already set one, and a container of food, in front of the empty seat. “I’m not a Jedi.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She glanced up from her meal and gave him a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ben.”

“Likewise, Padme.”

“So. What brings you to Coruscant, anyway?” Padme asked a while later, as they tucked into their meals.

Ben shrugged, savoring a bite of the food he was given. It was some kind of meat, fried and covered in a sweet sauce on a bed of rice. “A friend and I got tangled up in Jedi business,” he answered when he’d swallowed.

“Oh?” Padme took a bite of her own food. It looked to be a variation of his own. It probably wasn't very nutritional, especially for a pregnant woman.

“We were on the _Invisible Hand_ when it went down,” he told her distractedly, pushing away his thoughts about nutrition. His mother and Luke had turned out to be healthy people--if a bit short.  

“How’d you end up there?” Padme asked, her utensil half raised to her mouth but frozen by her interest.

What a good question.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

Padme looked crestfallen. “Classified?”

“No,” Ben said. “Or at least, I don’t think so. I was just unconscious for most of that part.”

Padme smiled wryly. “So you end up on Count Dooku’s ship with no memory of how or why you’re there?”

“I never said it was an entertaining story,” Ben grumbled, poking at his food.

“Seems pretty entertaining to me. One time Knight Skywalker and I--ah. Do you know him?”

“We’ve met.”

“Well, one time we ended up on General Grievous’ ship. Or--rather-- _I_ ended up there and Generals Skywalker and Kenobi had to come to my aid. What I’m saying is: These things do sometimes happen.”

Ben scoffed in disbelief. “So _you_ are one of those trouble-making senators that Organa warned me about.”

“Who's to say?” Padme said, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile behind her hand.

“Uh-huh. So if I were to ask Kenobi or Skywalker about you?”

“You shouldn’t trouble them,” Padme waved her utensil dismissively. “They’re so busy.”

Ben thought bitterly of Anakin hanging around Rey yesterday. Hadn’t she said that they went to the senate gardens? He didn’t seem very busy to Ben. “If you say so.”

Whether Padme noticed his change in mood or not, she changed the subject. “So how’d you end up doing this for the Jedi? Are you interested in politics?”

“Not really,” Ben took another bite of his food and watched as she pouted a bit at his swift dismissal. “Frankly, I don’t see the point of it. I’m apparently a bad influence to have around the Jedi younglings and Rey--”

“You’re friend from the _Invisible Hand_?”

“Yes. Her. Rey has a real shot at being a Jedi. She wants to learn. She can’t do that with me so close all the time.”

“And the younglings?”

“Yeah. Them too,” Ben said, dismissively. “They pick up on my bad moods. It’s not conducive to learning.”

“I admire the Jedi a great deal,”  Padme said, carefully, as she picked at her food. “However, their views on dealing with emotions are...difficult for me to understand. Everyone has bad moods. Then again I’m not a Jedi so what do I know?”

Ben blinked, taken aback. “I agree with you,” he told her, earnestly. “But I’m not a Jedi either, so...”

“Not a Jedi and not interested in politics. One can only wonder what you’re doing here.”

“Many have speculated,” Ben grumbled. “I didn’t mean to offend you about the politics thing. I just--I don’t understand how you can do this every day.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems…” Ben searched for a word that won’t outright offend her. Unable to find one suitable to the task he settled on: “futile.” This earned him a frown from Padme. “Even in a democracy there are going to be a few powerful people who make all the decisions.”

“They wouldn’t in a functioning democracy,” Padme grumbled, taking a bite of her meal.

Ben raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Do you not consider the Republic a functioning democracy?”

Padme chewed slowly, mulling over her response. Finally she swallowed and said: “The Republic has its issues. The senators you’re protecting understand that. We’re working to fix it.”

Ben frowned. “I can’t see how passing a de-escalation bill on the senate floor will fix the Republic’s issues.”

“It’s not about passing the bill.”

“What?”

Padme looked at him patiently. “It’s not about passing the bill,” she repeated. “It’s about having our voices heard. How the war was fought and how Chancellor Palpatine gained executive powers is a glaring oversight, in that all of it is perfectly legal.”

So there were people who thought Palpatine was corrupt, even if they didn’t understand the extent of it. Was this how she died? Getting in Palpatine's way?

“So what if the Senate doesn’t pass the bill and our petition isn’t accepted?” Padme continued, oblivious to the morbid direction of Ben’s thoughts. “At least it’s out there. At least the citizens of the Republic know that everything isn’t quite right. An informed public is a powerful public. If the citizens of the Republic have the information they need they will make the changes to the Republic as they see fit. In time.”

“Even if that means you lose your job?” Ben asked. “Even if you’re voted out of office?”

Padme actually shrugged. “That’s democracy at work.”

* * *

The next day, Ben brought his grandmother a jorgan fruit; as an apology, as a peace offering, as a gift, because it’s nutritional. At the time she thanked him and said nothing more. There were other people in the operations room.

Later, she asked him to eat lunch with her again. She ate the fruit he brought her in her office, where she freely complained to him about her aching feet and her sore back. She told him that she thought her baby was a boy; called it mother’s intuition.

She said she was considering traditional Nabooian names such as Eli, Adair, Euan, and Luke. She said she wanted to give birth on Naboo. She said she had thought about it and if word got out that she was pregnant she’s going to tell people that C-3PO is the father. This caused the droid to stutter and wave his arms in agitation as he started wailing about impropriety.

“She’s teasing you, C-3PO,” Ben told him before he could really get started.

Padme was too busy laughing at 3PO’s reaction to reassure him herself. She laughed so hard that she was snorting.

It’s a charming detail that made her seem more real, in that moment. Just because he knew her future didn't mean she was dead already. She was alive--teasing 3PO with a smile on her face and the juices of a jorgan fruit running down her hand--and enjoying all the messy experiences that came with that.

Ben realized, with a twist of his gut, that his mother will never get to hear this woman laugh.

* * *

“You should tell me more about yourself,” Padme demanded. She knew it was a demand. She wasn't hiding the fact that it was a demand. He should tell her more about himself. It’s only proper.

“What?”

Today Padme had decided to take their lunch break on a field trip. They were in the Coruscant library. Ben looked up from a holopad he’d been studying. He looked very studious. She had had to run the errand to the library but he had been the one to suggest they take a look around.

She wasn’t sure when she’d decided to make their lunches a thing. It hadn’t seemed like a conscious decision on her part. Ben was easy to talk to.

Which was part of the reason she was making her demand today.

“I did all the talking yesterday,” she elaborated.

He probably thought she’d lost her wits with how much she’d talked after he’d asked what her plans were in regards to her impending addition. She hadn’t meant to take up the whole lunch break talking about it.

It was just, that was the first time that anyone had asked her. Such were the pitfalls of a secret pregnancy. C-3PO was good to talk to when she needed an ear or a second opinion and he’d been very good at making sure she ate and rested and took her nutritional supplements. Rational things like that. But he wasn’t so good with asking open ended questions.

“I didn’t mind,” Ben told her, placing the holopad back where he’d picked it up from. “You sounded very excited about it.”

“I am.” Padme started rubbing her belly, already used to being transparent around Ben, but then had to stop herself when she remembered that they were in public and not closed away in her office.

“Then why hide it?” Ben asked in a hushed voice, starting to walk through the library again. “I’m sure privacy is part of it but, you seem to be going above and beyond what I would expect for privacy.”

“I am Naboo’s representative in the senate.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Padme sighed. “Naboo has very...traditional values and I am supposed to represent those values as much as I represent the people of Naboo as a whole. No one I love is going to be angry at me for being an unwed mother but it will complicate my official position here.”

“Oh, I see.”

Padme cleared her throat awkwardly. He had yet to ask but she felt like she needed to cover her bases. Lest he get the wrong impression. “That’s not to say I’m alone in this. I’m not. But it would complicate my--” Husband. She wanted to say husband. “The father’s career as well. Perhaps we’re delaying the inevitable but--but this wasn’t supposed to be about me.”

How sneaky. Did he do that on purpose or was she so want for someone to talk to that she forgotten conventional etiquette? A good friend didn’t only talk about themselves. They listened.

“What would you like to know?” Ben asked. He had stopped again, but instead of looking at the a new holopad or a terminal, he turned to face her. He was so very much taller than she was. As tall as Anakin, possibly taller.

“You’ve been very patient listening to me go on and on. Do you have children?”

He scoffed and she took that as answer enough.

“That’s a no. Do you think you ever will?”

Ben looked decidedly uncomfortable, clenching his fists and looking away from her. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Padme thought, from the hunch of his shoulders and the way he hung his head, that that was a lie.

“I’d be an awful father,” he continued while she was thinking of a good response.

Padme actually gasped in shock. “Why do you say that?”

Ben shrugged. “It’s true. There’s no point denying it.”

Padme didn't mean to but she pouts up at him. Hearing him speak so disparagingly about himself hurt something deep in her heart. She couldn’t say why.

“I disagree.”

Ben glanced down at her, his familiar eyes wide with surprise. Then he gave her a slight smile when he noticed her perturbed expression.

“If you say so.”

She frowned at him. Knowing all too well that he gave in too easily. She wanted to pry but he has allowed her her own secrets, he hadn’t pried when she had asked for his silence days ago and he hadn’t pried into who the father of her child was, either.

“Fine,” she relented, reluctantly. “Then what did you do before you ended up on the _Invisible Hand_? Before you ended up with the Jedi?”

If anything Ben’s shoulders hunch more. “Nothing good,” he told her, and she could tell from the way his eyes turn mournful that he wasn't lying.

“Oh.”

Ben gave her a worried look. “I’m not that person anymore,” he assured her, weakly. “I don’t know if I’m actually doing any better but I’d like to.”

Padme nodded. “We are not our mistakes,” she said.

Ben looked at her for a long moment and swallowed. “We are though. We can never not be the mistakes we’ve made.”

Padme shook her head. “By that logic we are also every act of kindness. Every success. Every embrace and every tear. We are the sum total of all of our experiences, but we’re also so much more. If you want to be a better person, I believe you can be.”

Ben had a curious expression on his face. A bit pained and a bit hopeful.

“You’re a very genuine person, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.” She said, even if she didn’t always feel very genuine. This wasn’t supposed to be about her.

“I hope I can live up to your faith in me. I’d hate to be a disappointment.”

Instinctually, Padme reached up to pat his shoulder. “You have my support.”

Ben looked down at her, his lips slowly quirking into a small smile before looking quickly away.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “I--your optimism reminds me of Rey.”

“Your friend who’s training with the Jedi?”

“Yes.” He finally looked back to her and there was warmth in his familiar eyes and fondness in his voice as he said: “She has been trying to convince me it isn’t too late to change for a while now.”

“Sounds like good advice,” Padme told him. She was grateful that Ben had a good friend who believed in him. Someone he obviously held in high regard.

“I have definitely disappointed her.”

Padme’s heart sunk. “But you’re friends now...” She hedged.

“Yes,” Ben agreed. “It was rocky, there for a while. But we’re friends now. She’s happier with that, I think.”

“With that?” Padme asked, it had almost sounded like his voice had went wistful, there. “What’s the alternative?”

“Nevermind.” Ben looked away from her again and then she saw it. Peeking from his dark hair was the tip of a very red ear.

“Oh,” Padme said in realization, her heart filling with renewed hope for her new friend. ”You want to change for her. That’s terribly romantic.”

“It’s really not,” he snapped at her but the blush was creeping to his face now.

“It very much is,” she assured him, undeterred. “I’m sure. I’ve watched several” (hundred) “holodramas with similar premises.”

“Is that what you do when you’re not campaigning for truth and justice? Watch romantic holodramas?”

“You have better hobbies?”

“No,” Ben said, “not really.”

“What is it that you enjoy then, hmm? When you’re not intimidating senators and listening to me?”

“Is that all you think I do?”

“It’s all I’ve seen you do.”

Ben scoffed, but it was close to a laugh. Padme felt fairly proud of herself. If he wanted her to get out of her own head then he had to come out of his too.

“I get in fights--”

Padme couldn't help snickering. “Oh, Ben, that’s not a hobby.”

“I disagree.”

“Fine, anything else?”

Ben mulled this over. “I haven’t done it in years but...I used to make calligraphy.”

Padme gasped in delight. “You have to make me something.”

“What--no. I don’t even have any supplies anymo--”

“I’ll get you the supplies.”

“Padme.”

“In exchange I’ll get you something to put in your hair.”

“No--what? That’s not how exchanges work.”

“Why not? You’re hair is so nice. It’s a shame not to adorn it just a bit,” Padme gazed up at the inky waves of Ben’s hair. “Something with stars, I think.”

“Padme. No.”

Padme pouted.

“...My mom used to braid my hair,” Ben told her, his voice quiet. Sharing something dear to him. Sharing it with her. “When I was small.”

Padme had an easier time imagining Ben as a small child than made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, elements of Ben's memory of Han telling Leia to take a nap is borrowed from the quote: 
> 
> "Work when there is work to do. Rest when you are tired. One thing done in peace will most likely be better than ten things done in panic. I am not a hero if I deny rest; I am only tired." – Susan McHenry


	10. it’s okay to find the faith to saunter forward. with no fear of shadows spreading where you stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Please be aware that I've upped the rating******
> 
> The rating change isn't for this chapter, but I will give a warning here when those chapters come up, for any of you who saw the 'rating may change' tag and put emphasis on 'may.' I've never written sex scene so I wasn't sure if I'd cop out. I'm going to give it a go; stretch my writing muscles. I will not make any promises to the quality of writing in those scenes, as I am still learning. 
> 
> Also, I'm going on a week long trip at the end of the week so I will _try_ to update on Friday, before I leave, but if I don't manage it will be the first week of June before I get a chance. I'm going to be visiting family so I doubt I'll have much time to write. You can come say hello to me on Twitter while I'm away (@disorientedscrb). I can't promise quality content from me on that platform, Twitter is still new to me and I've become a lurker. :P 
> 
> As always the chapter title is taken from The Mountain Goats. This time from the song "Never Quite Free."

Ben arrived back at the Temple from the Senate Dome and his heart sunk with dread. Master Yoda was waiting for him in the hangar.

With trepidation, Ben killed the speeder’s engine and approached the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. He had forgotten, until that moment, that Rey had bargained for him to have his opinions heard as well.

“Your assignment, are you enjoying?” Yoda asked when Ben was close. The distance that Yoda has to look up to speak to Ben is, frankly, ridiculous. Couldn’t they have done this sitting down?

“I don’t know if I’m _enjoying_ it.”

Yoda frowned. “Punctual and professional, you are,” he stated, as if these were facts. If they were, Ben was unaware of them. “Speaks highly of your work, Senator Organa does.”

This was news to Ben. He hadn’t done much of anything besides separate overzealous politicians and get to know his grandparents.

Bail Organa was just as nobile and intelligent as Leia had made him out to be.

Padme Amidala was...something wholly unexpected. He couldn’t decide if his glimpse into her internal struggles made her passion and altruism better or worse. If anything it made her infinitely more compelling to him. He needed to know why she was so sad. Why did she feel like she had to wear herself so thin? His curiosity was a problem and he knew it.

“I’m just doing what was asked of me,” Ben said, simply. It was a non-answer, in his opinion. Yoda didn't seem to take it that way. If the way he studied Ben is any indication.

“No easy task, that is,” he told Ben with a contemplative hum. “With me, walk.”

Yoda turned away from the hangar and started toward the entrance of the Temple. Ben had no choice but to follow. He was going that way, anyway. 

Walking with Yoda was a trial of Ben’s patience. For every step Ben took Yoda had to take five and he’s slow. Ben ended up sort of shuffling along at Yoda’s pace; looking like an idiot.

“Something on your mind, you have?” Yoda asked, his glimmerstick marking their slow progress with regular _clanks_ against the hard, marble floor.

Ben wasn’t sure what to make of Yoda. He didn't trust him, that was for certain. But he was the Grand Master of the Jedi Order and from what Rey had told him, Yoda had held that title for a very long time. Perhaps it was the vast timeframe of Yoda’s guardianship of the Jedi Order that put Ben off? Yoda wore his age and his conviction with an unwavering sense superiority that set Ben’s teeth on edge.

Still, Ben had decided to be honest with the Jedi, and since Yoda had asked...Ben answered: “I know the fates of some of those senators.”

“The fates of their alternate, you know," Yoda chided in disapproval. "Know _their_ fates, you cannot.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ben said distractedly. He’s not even disappointed in Yoda’s lack of insight. He just wished that his grandmother’s impending death didn’t bother him.

Was Ben’s concern over Padme in part because he knew that she was doomed and he didn't know why or how? She seemed fine, physically, so it wasn’t an illness—although she could usually do with a snack and a nap in his opinion. Was it an assassination? If so, it was good he was around.

Or was it?

Ben had been spiraling through these thoughts for days now. He was no closer to reaching a satisfying conclusion. On the one hand, he knew that she would die. On the other had, he was having difficulty accepting her death.  

“Into the Force, all of us go someday,” Yoda said into the silence of the conversation thread that Ben had dropped so he could revisit these thoughts.

“Yeah, sure, but I don’t know _how_ she dies,” he said, thinking out loud. “If someone violently oppose this bill and I protect her; am I changing her future or am I just doing what you asked me to do? Or do I just have faith that if the Force wants her to die it will be outside of regular business hours and therefore, out of my hands?”

“Overthink this, you have.”

“Yeah, sure, but--”

Yoda wacked Ben’s shins with his glimmerstick.

While Ben was cursing and rubbing his legs Yoda stopped walking and turned to him.

“Beholden to the whims and wishes of Ben Solo, the Force is not!”

“Have you checked? I’d like to be absolutely certain.”

Yoda huffed in indignation. “Personal, is this woman’s death, to you?”

“I don’t actually know her,” Ben admitted, straightening from a final inspection of his tender, shin. It was probably going to bruise. “Like I said, she dies soon. But, yes. She’s my grandmother."

“Attachment is--”

“Better than detachment." What did Yoda expect him to do? Sit on the sidelines while Padme died? The Jedi Ben had met here were many things but they were not so cold and cruel as that. "Besides, I’m not a Jedi. I can be as attached to someone as I see fit.”

Yoda regarded Ben for a long moment. “No,” he finally relented. “A Jedi you are not. Mind made up, you have? My council on this matter, you do not seek.”

Huh. “I guess you’re right.” His mind was made up. He didn’t _have_ to accept Padme’s death.

“Stubborn, the children of the future are,” Yoda grumbled as he turned and began to walk again. “Derision for Jedi teachings, you have. Why?”

Ben resumed his shuffle alongside Yoda (his bruised skin aching with the stiff movement) and considered his question.

“Not all of their teachings. There were some I quite liked.” He had enjoyed building his own lightsaber, for one thing. Even if he and Luke had been forced to scour the galaxy for a single kyber crystal.

Yoda stopped again, much to Ben’s surprise.

“A Jedi, your first Master was,” Yoda said, it wasn't a question. His voice was quiet and forlorn.

Ben couldn't see what harm could come from Yoda knowing this. (Ben would tell him a lot more than this if he’d listen.) Yoda already knew that Ben had more than one teacher. He knew that, at least, his second teacher was of the dark side. What did it matter to Yoda if Ben had started out in the light?

“He was," he confirmed. "He will be,” he amended.

Yoda looked away, his small shoulders slumped. “The girl, Rey. A curious question, asked.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

Yoda just shook his head sadly.

“Lost our way, the Jedi have.”

Ben could have told him that. Not that Ben’s opinion seemed to matter, overmuch.

This probably wasn’t the moment to drive this home but...“Rey and I are willing to share what we know. It’s not everything but--”

“No. Our mess. Our responsibility.”

Ben had a feeling that Yoda would go this way, but the green Jedi’s stubbornness still made him unreasonably angry. “This doesn’t just affect you,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“No. Time, a circle is. Ripple outward, it does,” Yoda said, pensively. Completely unfazed by Ben’s anger. “Your like before, have I seen," he said, jabbing a gnarled finger up at Ben. "Brazen. Headstrong. Yes. But also, frightened, care-worn. Hmm, yes." He stopped pointing to settle both hands on the top of his glimmerstick. Yoda studied Ben. "You’re like, in this very temple, I have seen," he concluded. "A good Jedi, you would have been. Under the right teacher.”

Ben snorted in disbelief. “You can’t keep everyone out of the dark, Master Yoda. The Force needs to be balanced.”

“Hm. Yes. Balance,” Yoda nodded to himself.  “Correct, you are. Help everyone, I cannot. Choose to help themselves out of darkness, all must. But not alone. Go, find Rey, you should. To the old, leave the worrying.”

Ben couldn’t believe his ears. He wasn’t entirely sure what conclusion the wiley old Jedi had drawn from their conversation but he wasn’t going to question a stroke of good fortune. He gave Master Yoda a respectful bow and went to find Rey.

* * *

Rey had fallen into a routine. She’d be lying if she claimed that it didn’t bring her some level of comfort. Stability was a novelty she had so rarely enjoyed during her life.

Rey would wake and spend her mornings with this Master or that Master, learning everything the Jedi Order thought a Jedi ought to know. The topics of her morning lessons varied. They were usually practical lessons like healing with the Force, lightsaber forms, and mind tricks.

Some of which she only needed one lesson on.

Her afternoon lesson was always the same: shielding her mind, with Obi-Wan Kenobi. This was a grueling experience and the least favorite part of her days.

Anakin occasionally butted in on these lessons which derailed them completely and grated on her nerves. Obi-Wan always tried to smooth those times over, which also grated on her nerves. She was entitled to her anger. She was allowed to be wary of Anakin. She should have been more wary of him from the start.

By dinner time Ben was usually back from the Senate Dome and they would take that meal together (although, always at the Temple canteen since Master Windu had threatened to throw Ben out after he’d found out they took the speeder without permission).

Then they would do something together. They’d talk about their day in that awful room of fountains or sit on the roof of the Temple and watch the lights of Coruscant, sometimes speculating different, wild ways they could manipulate the Force to get home.

Whatever they did it was the highlight of Rey’s day. Everyday. This was not lost on her.

Tonight, Rey wanted to expel some agitation so she asked Ben to spar with her. Shielding really was giving her all kinds of trouble and it was so mentally taxing that she usually wasn’t interested sparing by the evenings. Today was different. Today her emotions were all over the place.

During her lesson with Obi-Wan, he had asked her to hide something behind her newly built shields while he tried to extract what was hidden. So she could practice holding her shields against an attack.

Of course, he pushed right through, and he’d seen her girlhood home and he’d looked at her so strangely that it took her a moment to even realize what it was she saw in his expression or why she instinctively hated it.

It was pity.

Rey had never been looked at with pity in the Resistance. Most people there looked curiously at her--or worse, reverently.

Between Finn, Chewie, Leia, Rose, and Poe she’d been looked at with all kinds of expressions that were new to her. She’d been looked upon with care and concern and contrition and affection and annoyance. But never pity.

She liked it even less than that broken, hopeless way Ben had looked at her when she closed the _Falcon’s_ door on him all those months ago on Crait.  

Ben looked anything but hopeless now. He looked deep in thought, even as they moved around the dojo with training sabers.

Sparing with Ben was an exercise in futility, now, but she enjoyed the physical nature of it. They’d only fought each other in seriousness that once but the bond had caused their movements in battle to be incredibly similar. Neither gave the other ground as they spun and lunged and swiped at each other. It was almost like a dance in its predictability; like they had practiced the moves together.

An actual fight between them now would likely be up to stamina. Since, they knew where and when the other would strike. Even without the bond.

Rey knew there were differences between them too. Little things that they didn’t use in a spar but that cold make or break a real battle.

Ben wasn’t throwing his weight around, for one thing. The way she’d seen him do in actual battle; punching and kicking.

And Rey fought differently with a quarterstaff than she did with a saber. Ben had never seen her with her staff.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ben said with a lunge that she easily sidestepped.

Rey felt trepidation at his words. She’d been enjoying his uncomplicated friendship. But she was desperately aware that it wouldn’t last forever; something had to give. He’d make her confront whatever this was between them eventually. It was just his way. Ideally she’d be sure by then.

She widened her legs and took a defensive stance as she braced herself mentally for him to ask her to let him reopen the bond.  

Ben swung, their training sabers clashed. “You might be right.”

What? The weight of his blow rattled her teeth but she held her ground. She stared at him between their crossed training sabers.

“There are some things that will change simply because we’re here,” he continued.

Oh. He wasn’t even talking about them. Rey pushed down her unfounded disappointment and disengaged their sabers.     

“What did you do?” she teased, putting distance between them.

“Such little faith,” Ben tsked, amused.

Rey went into an offensive attack while he spoke. She came at him again and again; he blocked her with ease, but he was losing ground. “I haven’t done anything yet. I’m not even sure _what_ I can do. But I’m going to change something.”

“Change what?” Rey grunted.

“I’m going to keep my grandmother from dying.”

Rey stopped the attack; taking the time to weigh his words seriously. Saving a life was a _good_ cause.

“We will do that,” she said with certainty. She didn’t know how but between the two of them, anything was possible. “But if we don’t do something about Anakin she’ll have to watch him fall.”

“So?” Ben asked, holding his training saber loosely at his side.

Rey gave him a disbelieving look. “Surely _you_ can imagine how horrible it would be to watch someone you love turn against everything you thought the both of you held dear?” She asked, dryly. “Come on, Ben. It shouldn’t even be a stretch for you.”

She could see the moment he understood her implication when his eyes widened and then sharpened.

“It’s not the same,” he insisted. “Luke wasn’t the one who fell to the darkside.”

“I’m not saying he did. What he _did_ do was seriously consider killing you,” she reminded him, her voice colored with disbelief. “His nephew, in your sleep. He claimed he wouldn’t have went through with it but,” Rey shrugged. “Isn’t that a moot point? After everything that happened.”

Ben’s jaw tensed. He really wasn’t enjoying this conversation. She understood why, but that didn’t mean she’d stop. He’d made her talk about her family trauma. As much as she hated him for it at the time, it had helped. Surely he knew that what went around came around?

“It’s not the same,” Ben insisted, his shoulders hunching to his ears, defensively.

“Luke’s history gave you every indication that you both believed in family and each other.” She’d seen some of Ben’s memories. She knew how much Luke had meant to him. “Then he turned against that. Anakin and your grandmother both believe in,” Rey wracked her brain for the tidbits of information Ben had shared about his conversations with this woman. “Helping people? I don’t know her, actually, and Anakin is a bit of a mixed bag; can’t really pin him down. Anakin believes in the people he loves, I think. So, not unlike what you thought Luke believed in.”

“What did you ask Yoda?” Ben demanded, clearly thinking he could ignore her rambling.

“What? When?” Rey asked, caught off guard by the question, despite herself. 

“He spoke with me earlier. He mentioned that you asked a curious question but he wouldn't elaborate. Do you know what he meant?”

Rey’s talk with Yoda had been several days ago but she tried to think about what they’d talked about. Besides her selfishness.

“I asked what the Jedi here did with students who went to the dark side.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I had mentioned that my first training master was a Jedi. He must have put two and two together.”

“He probably didn’t like hearing _that_.”

“How do you mean?”

“He made it clear that their policy was to kill student’s who became Sith. You’re not a Sith.”

Ben looked at her incredulously. “Do you even know what a Sith is?”

Rey put her hands on her hips, training saber and all. “I know it’s a really bad darksider. Like pure evil. You said the Emperor was a Sith, and look at everything he did to the galaxy.”

“Vader was a Sith too.”

“But he turned back to the light. Are you saying we should try to convert Palpatine?”

“No,” Ben snorted. “I’m saying that if there was ever a concrete Sith doctrine it was lost with Vader and Palpatine. Snoke never knew it. I don’t know it. If I’m not a Sith it’s for lack of resources. Not because I’m better or worse than anyone.”

“But you are not them, Ben. You still recognize the light when it calls to you. Sometimes you even choose to listen to it.” Rey crossed the room to stand in front of Ben, who straightened his posture as she approached. “The light side and the dark side; they’re not separate from one another. Palpatine and Snoke left a legacy of darkness but that didn’t mean the light was gone. Love and joy were still being felt by people all over the galaxy.”

Rey looked up into his fathomless eyes, mesmerized by the hope she saw there.

“I’ve seen darkness in you, Ben. I’ve also seen light. You’re not wholly one or the other. No one is.”

“Might want to keep your voice down,” Ben warned, his voice low. “You don’t want any Jedi to hear you spewing heresy.”

Rey felt her lips lift in a smile despite herself. “Haven’t you heard?” She whispered, leaning closer. “They’re already dissatisfied with me.”

“I can’t help but pity them.” Ben lifted his hand, slowly, giving her time to pull away. Rey waited; anticipating his touch. “They can’t comprehend what they have,” he said as his fingertips making contact with her skin. Featherlight and scorching; filling her with heat in their wake. They brush her sweaty hair off of her brow, her cheek, her neck--where they linger. “They have no basis for someone like you.”

Her arms were shaking for want to touch him. Rey waited.

“Someone like me?” she asked, as Ben’s fingers make a map of the column of her neck and finally make a home at the base of her skull. He brought his whole palm to rest against her skin.

The bond is closed.

Could he feel how hot and hard her heart was beating from the pulse in her throat?  His lips parted like he’s amazed she’s letting him touch her. How could she not? Doesn’t he know he’s ignited her? Could he not see that she was ablaze?

“You’re…” Ben’s eyes search her face. She waited for him to settle on a word. Holding her breath. “Everything,” he told her, his thumb scalding the skin of her cheek in slow, languid swipes. “Anyone who can’t see that must be blind.”

Rey felt tears prick behind her eyes despite herself. “You think I’m good?”

Ben smiled at her words. A full smile, that folded creases in his cheeks and that, kind of killed the moment, but also turned it into something sweeter. More true.

“Yes, Rey. You’re good.”

Rey surged forward and caught his lips with hers. It’s a clumsy kiss. She should be embarrassed. She’s not. This is Ben. He’ll understand that the fuse he’s lit in her has finally reached the quick and she’s exploded. She’s full to bursting of emotions and she’s eager and inexperienced in such things.

Just like she understands that he is too.

She leaned away, searching his face.

As kisses go, it was chaste and quick and nowhere near enough to satisfy either of them. Or so it would seem from the hungry look in Ben’s eyes.

His hand--which had slackened with surprise when she’d moved--came back to cup her head now. This time he came to her.

Ben’s kiss is consuming. A large hand, engulfing her cheek and neck and the back of her skull; the other hand, spanning her hip. His grip there is bruising.

Rey wasn't one to be outdone or overcome. She circled her arms around his neck; used her weight to bring him more fully to her.

He followed. Easily. Greedily.

* * *

Things had not been going well with Rey, at all. It was Anakin’s own fault. He knew that. But she wasn’t making it easy to apologize.

Everytime he tried to get close to her she was with Obi-Wan or another master or Ben. Which, alright, two out of three of that list wasn’t her fault. She was here to learn, after all. But he didn’t understand why she insisted on being so chummy with Ben.  

At least he had stopped sitting in on Rey’s lessons. Anakin wasn’t sure were Ben went to during the day but it was clear that the Council had finally put their collective feet down. It was absurd, honestly, how much leeway they had given Ben when he’d first arrived. He was a darksider. He should not be in the Temple distracting Rey.

It had taken a while but Anakin had finally come around to the idea that Rey was his granddaughter. If time travel was a thing then why not?

Still, he needed to apologize, related or not his actions had been atrocious. His frustration over not being able to address the issue directly was eating at him.

In a cloud of dissatisfaction he’d decided it was past time he spend a night with Padme. He’d been so caught up with this time traveling granddaughter nonsense that he’d completely neglected the wife and growing child he had here and now. That needed to be rectified.

He was on his way there now, sneaking through the Jedi Temple, which was idle and quiet after a long day and a hearty dinner. Or maybe, the Temple was mostly empty because of the war?

The point was he didn’t pass anyone in the hallways.

There was a certain tunnel near the training rooms that let out close to where he stashed a speeder for just such clandestine meetings. All he had to do was get there uninterrupted and he’d be Padme-bound in no time.

Or so he hoped. There was a light spilling into the hallway from one of the training rooms ahead of him. He’d have to sneak past to reach the tunnel. He wasn’t too worried, he’d been doing this for years now.

Anakin crept down the hall, keeping his presence in the Force low and his footfalls soft. He came right up to the door of the dojo that was supposedly in use. Oddly enough, he didn’t hear any sounds that indicated exercise. There were no thuds of training sabers clashing, no grunts of exertion, no panting. Instead a soft, feminine sigh cut through the silence.

 _That_ did not sound like ‘giving oneself over to the Force.’

Anakin peeked into the room, certain that he’d get an eyeful of a couple of curious and hormonal Padawans. Instead it was--

“Force help me!”

Rey and Ben sprung apart and faced the door. Ben looked put upon by the interruption, his lips obscenely red and kiss-swollen. Rey looked absolutely murderous when she recognized who had interrupted them.

“l--wh--you--This is a temple!” Anakin yelled, while Rey rolled her eyes and Ben pouted. “You can’t do that in a temple.”

“Fine,” Rey said. “We’ll go outside.”

Ben’s eyes sparked with renewed interest.

Nope. Anakin was not having this. That bullheaded darksider kissing his--admittedly bullheaded--granddaughter? Over Anakin’s dead body.

This was the same dojo that was still littered with saber burns from Ben loosing control, for Foces sake!

“Absolutely not!” Anakin declared, crossing his arms over his chest and giving them what he hoped was a no-nonsense stare.

Rey crossed her own arms. “What are you even doing here?”

“ _I'_ _m_ here to escort you to your rooms. That’s what!”

“What?” Ben scoffed incredulously.

“Why?” Rey sneered.

“The Jedi Code forbids--”

“Attachment, yes I know,” Rey rolled her eyes. “I’ve only heard of it a few thousand times already. You are such a hypocrite,” she finished with a snarl.

Anakin choked at her words but before he could say anything to that Ben put his hand gently on Rey’s arm. “It’s probably a good idea if we call it a night,” he told her, his voice soft and regretful. “I'm still on thin ice with Windu.”

Rey swallowed and nodded.

Anakin was still reeling. He’d thought Ben was interested in Rey because of her ability in the Force. Hadn’t he told Anakin that he wanted to train her? This had crossed _so_ many acceptable boundaries between students and teachers that Anakin was feeling a little sick.

Without a word spoken between the three of them they left the dojo. It was an awkward walk back to the residential wing of the Temple but they managed. Anakin, with the painful knowledge that he was the chaperone of the group. He felt ill-equipped for the role.

They dropped Ben off at his room first.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Rey said, reaching out and grasping his hand.

“Of course. Goodnight Rey,” Ben said. Then he nodded at Anakin. “Anakin.”

“Ben,” Anakin spat.

Rey turned to glare at Anakin again but Ben didn’t seem to care about his rude tone.

Once Ben’s door closed behind him Rey stormed off in the direction of the turbolift.

“What are you doing with him tomorrow?” Anakin demanded, following her.

”That is none of your business,” she said over her shoulder. She was not slowing down to wait for him. If anything she walked faster.

Anakin huffed in disbelief. Didn't she see that he was trying to help her? “Why are you like this? Why him?”

“Why do you care? It's nothing to you.”

“Attachment--”

Rey stopped walking away from him just so she could wheel on him. Her expression, thunderous. “Did you forget that you told me you're going to be a father--”

“Not so loud!”

“--do you think I don't know how that comes about? You've been attached to someone somewhere.”

Rey raised her eyebrows suggestively. Anakin blushed.

“Fine,” he hissed. For Forces' sake they were in the middle of a residential hallway. Anyone could hear her! “You're right. I'm a hypocrite. Now will you hush about that?”

Rey backed off, giving him a quizzical look. ”Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Why are you so shameless?” Anakin countered in annoyance, mostly, but also: she was kissing a darksider! In the Temple!

“What do I have to be ashamed of?”

“Are you not getting anything from what the Jedi Masters are teaching you? Is this a game to you?”

This made Rey get in his face. Anakin reared back. “I'm doing my best,” she snarled.

Oh. “I didn't mean to imply--”

Rey was already walking away again.

“Wait, Rey. I'm sorry.”

“For what exactly?” She had reached the turbolift now and was pushing the ‘up’ button with excessive force.

“For implying that you weren't taking this seriously. And...for my actions the other day.” The doors of the lift opened, Rey got in, Anakin followed. She gave him a contemptuous look and stood as far away from him as the lift would allow.

“You mean when you attacked me?” The doors closed. Anakin pressed the button for the floor that Rey’s room was on.

“Yes. I'm sorry for that. It was inexcusable.”

“It was a pretty horrendous thing to do, Anakin,” she crossed her arms over her chest again but this time it looked more defensive than aggrieved. “I'm a guest here.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

The doors opened and they both exited on Rey’s floor. Rey didn't stop until they were at the door to her room. Then she turned to Anakin without going inside.

“You need to watch yourself Anakin,” she told him. “Those violent impulses only get worse.”

There was some emotion in her eyes that Anakin couldn't place and he was reminded that the Force has granted her a knowledge that it has only teased him with. Being given visions of the future was agony for Anakin. To know how, but not when, someone he loved wholly would die was almost more than he could bear. But bear it, he would. If only to make sure that it never came to fruition.

Not this time. Not again.

To be transported into the past with full knowledge of the future was a torment he could barely comprehend. What all had Rey endured? To look at him like that.

Finally she turned away, apparently done with him for the night.

“Wait, tell me something.”

Rey’s shoulders slumped. “What?” she asked, turning back with a sigh.

“That monster you showed me...?” Anakin had been thinking about this too and all he knew was that he didn’t know who or what that was. Why had she chosen to shield herself with that?

“That wasn’t a monster.”

“Wasn’t it?” Anakin asked in disbelief. What else could it have been?

“Well, ok, he’s a monster. But he was a man, once...just like you.”

That didn’t sit well with Anakin. Why did she have to say it like that?

“Who was that?”

Rey chewed her lip in deliberation. “Yoda won’t like it if I tell you anything.”

“Yoda doesn’t have to know,” Anakin whispered, leaning toward her, eagerly.

“He is called Darth Vader.”

Darth. “He’s a Sith?”

Rey shrugged. “What does that matter?”

“The Sith are the enemy of the Jedi.”

“Fine, he’s a Sith,” Rey conceded, clearly not understanding the importance of this information. It meant that whoever Darth Sidious was he takes an apprentice after Dooku’s death. It means that--in her time--the Jedi do not kill Darth Sidious.

“But that’s not _all_ Darth Vader was,” she continued, oblivious to Anakin’s revelation. “He was also an excellent duelist and pilot. He was a war veteran and a son and a father.”

“What?”

“I’m saying that not everything is as cut and dry as Sith versus Jedi," Rey put her hands on her hips. "You do yourself a disservice to believe that.”

Anakin grimaced with disgust. “This is about Ben, isn’t it?”

“No!”

“You’re trying to justify your attraction to a darksider.”

“There’s nothing to justify!”

Anakin scoffed.

“Besides, he’s trying to do better.”

“That excuses his past?”

Rey frowned at him, disappointed. “Everyone makes mistakes, Anakin. At least Ben is trying to own up to his.”

“Everyone makes mistakes?” Anain scoffed. “Like Darth Vader? The father and war veteran who also happens to be a Sith?”

“You're lucky, you know,” Rey mused, much to Anakin’s surprise. She must be ignoring him. Perhaps she didn't want to talk about the Sith and Ben and Darth Vader any longer. She did look tired. Perhaps he had pushed her too far.

“Me?” Anakin asked, allowing the topic change.

“Obi-Wan obviously loves you beyond reason.”

Anakin blinked, taken aback. Where had that come from?

“What?”

“Did he say anything to you about what you did to me? Were you even reprimanded?”

Oh. They were back on that. “You don't understand--”

But Rey, it seemed, is finished listening to Anakin speak. “I would give anything for someone to care for me like that.”

Anakin did not know what that statement was in reference to, not really. It broke his heart to hear all the same.

“I care for you,” Anakin told her. Of course he did. She was his family.

“Pfft.”

Alright. Not the reaction he’d hoped for. She didn't look any happier for the knowledge either.

Very much despite himself, Anakin admitted: “Ben seems to care for you...somewhat.”

“Yeah,” Rey agreed, her voice soft and wondering. “I think he might.”

Then she was poking his chest and commanding: “So stay out of it.”

With that Rey entered her room; leaving Anakin adrift on the other side of the door.

Anakin had a choice. He could either retrace his steps and go to Padme. Pretend like this didn't happen and didn't disturb him. Or he can stay at the Temple, keep his senses open and make sure Ben doesn't sneak into Rey’s room. Or vice versa...vice versa was very likely.

With a sigh, Anakin went to his own room, resigned to another night of terrible nightmares and very little sleep.

Surely Padme could wait one more day.


	11. it’s hard to tell gifts of the spirit from clever counterfeits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlier this week this fic was BLESSED by [Christianity_coffee_and_cigarettes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christianity_coffee_and_cigarettes/pseuds/Christianity_coffee_and_cigarettes) (who is also @frenchyreylo on twitter) who gifted me the beautiful mood board below. 
> 
> The chapter title is taken from the song "Prowl Great Cain" by The Mountain Goats

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181804824@N06/47986316936/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

“Don’t you think it’s time she made her own lightsaber?”

This suggestion came at Obi-Wan while he was meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He slowly blinked open his eyes to find Anakin leaning over him.

“Who?” He asked, sluggish from having his meditation cut short.

“Rey.”

Of course, who else could they be talking about? Anakin’s interest in her was getting a bit ridiculous. Obi-Wan should be discouraging it. It was incredibly untoward of Anakin. And clearly unwanted on Rey’s part. The number of times Anakin had interrupted Rey’s shielding lessons the last few days was intolerable enough. If only because Obi-Wan was always forced to ask his former Padawan to leave. Rey seemed to have no problem with Ben sitting in on her lessons but she looked as though she would burst a blood vessel every time Anakin tried it.

Whether it was her own blood vessel through anger or several of Anakin’s, Obi-Wan didn’t want to find out. He didn’t think she was beyond violence when pushed.

“Jumping the blaster, aren’t we?” He asked with barely suppressed annoyance. “She’s only been here a little over a week.”

“Well, yeah,” Anakin conceded, his gaze shifting uneasily around the room. “But the war is still ongoing, it’d be terrible if she got hurt because she wasn’t properly equipped.”

“I think that unlikely.” The girl clearly knew how to defend herself. She’d more than proven that.

“But you said yourself that she’s an exemplary pupil...”

Obi-Wan frowned, suspicious. “Who would even have the time to take her to Ilum?”

If Anakin thought Obi-Wan would let _him_ take her so help him--

“Um…” Anakin gave him an unimpressed look. “You.”

“What--why me?” Obi-Wan asked, stunned. “Why not you?”

“Because she doesn’t like me.”

At least he was aware of his surroundings enough to realize that much. Perhaps this wasn’t about Anakin’s interest in Rey.

“That’s your fault,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” Anakin heaved a put-upon sigh and shoved his hands deep into the arms of his robes. “I’ve apologized but she’s unlikely to go anywhere with me again. Especially off planet.”

“She’d probably insist Ben come too,” Obi-Wan said, only half joking.

“So you see my dilemma,” Anakin rolled his eye. “Where is he anyway? He hasn’t been sitting in on her lessons.”

“The Council sent him on a mission on planet,” Obi-Wan informed him. “To get him out of the Temple during the day.”

Anakin raised a skeptical brow. “Is that wise?”

“It was necessary,” Obi-Wan admitted, rubbing his temple at the memory of the sheer volume of that debacle. Yoda had been incised when Ben had lost his temper. The youngest of the younglings in the creche were convinced that the Force itself was angry; like some vengeful god. He felt the beginnings of a headache coming on just being reminded of the ordeal.

“Besides, Senator Organa speaks very highly of him.” Obi-Wan himself had been surprised by Bail’s assessment. Pleasantly so. Apparently there was more to Ben Solo than hauteur scowling and a fondness for Rey.

“Out of fear?”

“Bail’s not easily intimidated.”

Anakin appeared to consider this. “Huh. Fair point. So? Rey? Lightsaber?”

Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation. Honestly. “I’ll think about it, Anakin. However, it’s looking very likely we’ll still be working on her shields for the foreseeable future.”

“Her shiel--What? _That’s_ what you’ve been teaching her?” Anakin crouched lower, to look Obi-Wan in the face, hands braced on his knees. “I already taught her how to do that!”

Obi-Wan couldn't help staring at Anakin in open mouthed disbelief at this assertion.

“ _Did you_ , Anakin?” He asked, his voice high with sarcasm. “Did you teach her how to shield her mind? That fiasco was your _teaching method_? I shudder to think of what your lesson plans might consist of.”

Anakin seemed not a bit phased by Obi-Wan’s outburst. “Why don’t you tell her she can build a lightsaber if she figures out her shields?” He said, excitedly, as though struck by inspiration. “Give her incinitive?”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Obi-Wan insisted.

(And yet…)

“Alright. Fine.” Anakin conceded, his hands going back into his robes’ sleeves in chagrin. “What part of shielding is she not getting? Maybe I can--”

“No! No-no-no-no-no-no.” Obi-Wan shook his head with horror at the mere thought. How could Anakin even suggest that? "She has been very clear about _you_ teaching her _anything._ Just give her space, Anakin. I’ll consider her lightsaber when she gets the hang of shielding--Force help me! Maybe she is my Padawan?”

“Uh--what?”

Obi-Wan looks at his former Padawan in dawning horror. “She’s practically your second coming.”

“ _What_?!” Anakin actually lost his balance and toppled from his crouched position and onto his backside. A bit of an over-the-top reaction but, it is Anakin.

“Stubborn as a gundark and refuses to do anything the right way. Sound familiar?”

Anakin, looked oddly relieved. “Oh. Haha. Yeah. That. You meant that.”

“What else would I have meant?”

“Nothing!” Anakin stood abruptly. Nearly unbalancing again in his haste. “I’ve got to go. I have a meeting with the Chancellor. Can’t be late for that!”

* * *

Rey was spending a rare quiet morning in the library with Master Nu. There wasn’t any lesson being taught that Rey could discern. The woman was just showing her around the Jedi Archives, letting her look at anything that piqued her interest.

Master Nu stayed close as Rey searched the archives and read; answering any questions that Rey might have that a search terminal couldn’t answer sufficiently.

“Are there any texts here?” Rey asked eventually. Not having seen any in her initial tour.

Master Nu smiled at her, kindly. “There are plenty of texts here.” She gestured behind her to the shelves upon shelves of glowing blue servers. They held immeasurable digitized volumes that could be downloaded onto terminals within the library itself or onto data pads or datasticks. It was a awe inspiring collection. It wasn’t what Rey meant.

“No. Like--” Rey put her hands together, palm to palm. Then opened them, keeping her hands together at the smallest fingers. Miming the way the volumes she’d taken from the tree on Ahch-To opened.

Jocasta Nu froze, blinking at Rey’s hands.

“Oh,” she exclaimed after a moment, laughing a bit, as though it was a silly question. “No. We don’t have any books here. That’s an antiquated way to store data, I’m afraid. Easily destroyed with natural elements. We’ve kept our information digital for thousands of years. It’s much safer that way.”

Rey’s shoulders slumped. Was it safer this way? After all, Rey had never seen a Jedi holocron until today. Had Luke? What portion--if any--of this incredible archive that Master Nu was so proud of, had survived Palpatine and the Empire?

Rey opened her mouth to ask Master Nu if the information in the archive was backed up anywhere when they are interrupted by Obi-Wan.

“I apologize for cutting your time short, Master Nu,” he said with a respectful incline of his head at the other Master. “But Master Yoda has asked to see Rey.”

Great. There went her pleasant morning.

She and Obi-Wan bid Master Nu farewell and made their way through the Temple, back to the room Rey had her first one-on-one conversation with the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, when she had given him Count Dooku’s lightsaber.

On the walk there Obi-Wan refused to tell her what the meeting was about, no matter how many times she asked. Eventually she assumed it was another ‘grievances’ meeting and stopped asking. However, instead of dropping Rey off with Master Yoda (who was already waiting for her) and leaving, Obi-Wan took a seat on a mushroom ottoman himself.

“Trouble shielding, Obi-Wan tells me you have,” Yoda said without preamble, once Rey was seated.

There was no tea this time. All business then. This made Rey instantly uncomfortable for some reason.

“I suppose,” she hedged. “There aren’t many people in my time who can take advantage of an open mind.” Not anymore, anyway. “It feels unnatural.”

“Except for Ben Solo,” Yoda pointed out, regarding her contemplatively.

Rey threw Obi-Wan a worried look. Had he told Yoda about the bond? Obi-Wan only raised an eyebrow at her and she was forced to either rebuff Yoda’s assessment or ask Obi-Wan outright and possibly tell Yoda herself in the process.

Rey turned back to Master Yoda. “Except for Ben,” she conceded. “Who I trust not to.”

Yoda simply nodded. Rey was expecting some more drivel about attachment. This, she decided, is progress.

“Meditate on this matter together, we should,” Yoda insisted, closing his eyes.

Rey threw another glance at Obi-Wan, who also had his eyes closed.

Just like that?

Alright, then.

Rey closed her eyes.

Meditating with Yoda and Obi-Wan was different than meditating with Ben had been. For starters, she had to reach much further to be able to launch off of the tree all the way in the courtyard.

Also, because they _are_ different. Ben had felt so much like an extension of herself; their emotions and desires the mirror of each others. Yoda and Obi-Wan were two, distinctly different beings. She is drawn to their presences in the Force--as she is to all living things--but she could not integrate herself into their space, as she did with the tree. As she did with Ben.

Rey didn't know how long they stayed at this. She spent a while at the beginning bouncing off Yoda and Obi-Wan, in the Force; testing their limits. But when she found them to be very solidly themselves, she was mostly idle. Letting the life and pulse of the planet and its inhabitants and the Force flow through her.

She wasn't sure what clarity was supposed to be gained from meditation. Certainly not insight. In Rey’s experience insight came unexpectedly and unsought. The Force does not give away it’s secrets on command.

Suddenly, Rey heard Yoda hum with her ears. She took that as the signal that group meditation was over. Rey came back to herself and opened her eyes.

Yoda was staring at her funny.

“To the living Force, open, you are. Open at all times.”

“So?” Rey asked.

“Difficult it is for you. To close yourself off completely from the living.” Yoda said this by way of elaboration but Rey still didn't understand.

“Why would I want to close myself off completely?” She asked.

Yoda quirked a brow at her. “Wish to shield, I thought you did?”

“From people,” Rey said slowly. “Not from the Force.”

“Distinction, you must make. Between Force and living beings. Open to all, at all times, you are. Dangerous, this is, for you.”

This only proved to confuse Rey more. Weren’t living beings the source and outcome of the Living Force? Was not all life the beginning and the end? Creation and destruction? Balance.

How could she keep herself open to the Force and close herself to those who wielded it? Was her uncertainty of this the root of her issues shielding?

“A suggestion, Obi-Wan has made,” Yoda said into Rey’s contemplative silence. “Approve, I do.”

She glanced at Obi-Wan, whose mustache was quirked in a smile as he caught her eye.

* * *

Rey wasn’t a stranger to hard work. She’d been doing it her whole life.

This was different. She could work for months or--she shuddered to even think--years trying to do this Obi-Wan’s way. Or, she could be smart about it and be allowed to build her own lightsaber.

When she and Obi-Wan emerge from Yoda’s meeting he was already talking about different tactics they could use. They could meditate longer together first, he said. See if the Force won’t give them some clarification on how to resolve the issue.

“I know how to resolve the issue,” Rey wheeled on him, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise.

“Pardon?”

“I think I can knock this out in a hour,” she told him, confidently.

“ _What_?!” Obi-Wan looked at her like she had suggested that they herd nerf as a training exercise.

Rey didn't have time for his disbelief. She'd already started walking away. Eager to get started.

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder, when it was apparent that Obi-Wan wasn’t following her. She was fairly certain she would need his security codes to get out of the Temple with a mode of transportation. “Let’s go find Ben.”

She heard Obi-Wan’s hurried footsteps behind her. “I really don’t think this is advisable. Ben is--”

Rey turned abruptly, rounding on Obi-Wan. She’d heard enough warnings about attachment and the perils of the dark side to last her a lifetime.

“Just trust me, alright?” she pleaded with a bewildered Obi-Wan. “If this doesn’t work we’ll meditate or something.”

* * *

Anakin had a lot of time to think everything over while he stood watch the previous night. To his utter amazement neither Ben nor Rey tried to sneak into the others’ room, so he’d essentially skipped out on spending the night with Padme for nothing.

Still, he’d came up with a solution, of sorts.

He needed Rey away from Ben, for obvious reasons. He needed to get to the bottom of Ben’s intentions with her and keep her safe.

(It would also be nice to get her away from the Jedi Council, who Anakin was certain would think to check her midi-chlorian count eventually. Which had the chance to lead them to Anakin’s own bending of the rules.)

Sure, she’d told him to stay out of it, but if she was really a Skywalker then she’d be pleased to have the opportunity to get a lightsaber.

He was reasonably certain that he’d convinced Obi-Wan, regardless of what his Master said. If Obi-Wan didn’t follow that course of action? Well, Anakin would put the bug in Rey’s ear and get her to bother Obi-Wan relentlessly about it.

It wasn’t a perfect solution but it’s merits were many (Rey would leave the Temple, and Ben, for a time and she got a proper Jedi weapon).

Nevertheless, Anakin wasn’t lying that morning when he had told Obi-Wan that he had a meeting with the Chancellor. He just hadn’t mentioned that the meeting wasn’t until midday.

“Anakin,” Palpatine greeted him warmly, with an arm around his shoulders and smile. “It has been too long.”

That was something Anakin liked about Palpatine. No matter how much time had passed since they had last seen each other, it was always too long. It made Anakin feel valued.

“Apologies, Chancellor. I’ve been preoccupied.”

“Of course!” Palpatine led Anakin to a cluster of seats in a corner of his office. “I just bet you’ve been enjoying your time at home,” he continued, taking a seat and gesturing for Anakin to do that same. “The comforts of home can be very seductive after a long time away.”

Anakin couldn't help but think guiltily of Padme. Had he really been able to enjoy the ‘comforts of home’ if he’d only been able to see her briefly one time?

“No time will be enough time,” Anakin admitted, some of the melancholy he felt edging into his voice. He didn’t have to pretend around Palpatine, but that didn’t mean that he wished to talk about it at the moment. He desperately wanted more time with Padme before he talked about his fears with anyone. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to talk about the Force induced time-travel. Was he? “Any news?”

Palpatine gave him a discerning look, but allowed the subject change. “Don’t you know? Ah, I forget you aren’t on the Jedi Council. Ah, well,” Palpatine folded his arms and Anakin frowned.

It’d be easier if he was on the Council, he wouldn’t always be days behind on news regarding Rey and Ben. Why hadn’t Obi-Wan told him before today that the Council had entrusted Ben with a mission. What could they have been thinking?

“The siege on Mandalore is ongoing,” Palpatine continued. “But I have utter faith in Tano’s command. Also, there have been rumoured sightings of Grievous all over the Outer Rim.”

Anakin should be on Mandalore with Ahsoka and the 501st. It was his duty. His responsibility. It was not something to be foisted on his Padaw--on Ahsoka. But right now it was between being re-deployed and protecting Padme. His nightmares were getting more vivid every night.

“We’ll have him soon, Chancellor,” Anakin said. “Count Dooku’s death surely upset the Separatists’ command structure. Grievous might be a shrewd strategist but he isn’t a leader. The Republic could put an end to this war before the enemy can re-organise.”

Palpatine sighed, wearily. “I know I should have your optimism but with the two best Jedi generals here, I find myself doubtful.”

“I have utter faith in my fellow Jedi Knights, Chancellor.” Anakin made himself say. He could not be sent away just yet! “Obi-Wan and I are needed here at the moment.”

“Yes. The rogue Jedi. I was so disappointed that our lunch was cut short. Did you ever find out what was wrong?”

Anakin scoffed. “Nothing was wrong. Ben just had his nose were it shouldn’t have been.”

Palpatine looked baffled. “How do you mean?”

Anakin hesitated. He knew he shouldn’t tell Palpatine about the time-travel. But he trusted him. Surely, he could tell him something?

“Do you remember the other person on the _Invisible Hand_?”

“That ill-mannered girl?” Palpatine asked with a frown.

“Yeah, her,” Anakin felt his lips spread into a fond smile. She really was something, his granddaughter!

“He keeps going into her head,” he continued, sombering quickly as he remembered the topic of discussion.  

Palpatine blinked, confused. “Into her head?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Anakin sighed. “It’s like he knows when she's upset and how to handle her--that sounds bad--what to do about it. He knows exactly what to do about it in a way that doesn’t make it worse. And it goes the other way, I think. I’ve never noticed her in his head but he’s...calmer when she’s around.”

“Like they have some kind of connection? In the Force?”

“No” Anakin laughed. “That would be--well.” Anakin stopped short and actually thought about what Palpatine was suggesting. He probably didn't know anything about training bonds but now that Anakin was in mind of them…“It is sort of like how a training bond would be. But different,” Anakin frowned, remembering last night. “Very different.”

“A training bond, you say?” Palpatine regarded him over his folded hands, intrigued. “You think he aims to apprentice this girl?”

“ _No_. Absolutely not. I--uh. Caught them…” Anakin searched his mind desperately trying to find a nicer way to say ‘sucking face’ to the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. He finally settled on, “embraced.” This didn't begin to accurately describe what he saw.

Palpatine looked appropriately scandalized by Anakin’s lackluster explanation. “Oh my. You don’t suppose he’s taking advantage of the poor girl, do you?”

Palpatine’s brow is furrowed in concern and for a moment Anakin felt guilty for disturbing him with this information. Just because Anakin was unsettled, didn’t mean he had to bring it to Palpatine. Still, he has already brought it up.

“If he is taking advantage of her, she’s not aware of it,” Anakin said, thinking about their talk and how she believed that Ben actually cared for her. “She believes his advances are genuine.”

“I’m afraid to say that these types of people--these manipulative villains--often work under the guise of friendship, or even love, as it were,” Palpatine informed him, empathetically. It brought hope to Anakin to see his friend so concerned over his kin. Even if Palpatine couldn’t know about that.

“Although, it does make me worry about all the time he’s been spending with dear Padme.”

Anakin felt like his whole world had stopped.

“What?”

“Oh yes,” Palpatine sighed, “Senator Amidala and Ben Solo have been taking their midday meals together for quite a few days now.”

Anakin’s ears were ringing. “What’s he doing at the Senate Dome?” He asked, his mouth dry.

“He’s been hired by Organa as a mercenary, of sorts,” Palpatine informed him. “I’d honestly worried the Jedi had sent him to interfere in the Senate. It seems that was a hasty assumption...You honestly didn’t know?”

Anakin swallowed back a curse. He was a fool. He’d been so worried about Ben’s influence on Rey now and Padme’s suffering in the future, that he’d failed Padme in the present.

“No I--Senator Amidala is free to have lunch with who she pleases,” he forced himself to say. “But she ought to be warned. Don’t you think, Chancellor?”

“Yes,” Palpatine nodded, his expression grave. “A warning might do the trick...I’ll leave that to you,” Palpatine gave Anakin a fortifying pat on his knee. “As you know Solo better than I.”

“Yes. Good,” Anakin noded. “I’ll--uh. I’ll talk to the senator. Thank you, Chancellor, for bringing this to my attention.”

Anakin checked the chrono on the wall. Uselessly. He had absolutely no idea when Padme took her lunches.

“No need for thanks, my boy, but do go on,” Palpatine dismissed him. “I’ll give you directions to the Loyalist Committees’ office...You might be able to catch her before she leaves with him.”

* * *

Keep Anakin Skywalker from becoming Darth Vader? What a thought. But that was what Ben was faced with now.

Rey was right, Padme shouldn’t have to go through watching the fall of a loved one. It was a terrible thing, to have one’s whole world burn around you, helpless to stop it.

If he wanted to keep his grandmother alive. If there was going to be a time where the Skywalker’s had a chance, Ben would have to find a way to keep Anakin in the light.

How could Ben keep anyone from falling? How could he manage to keep someone in the light when he carried darkness with him like a stain? He couldn’t even help himself out of the dark.

“What can you tell me about Skywalker?” He asked Padme, who froze midway through throwing the remains of her lunch to eager birds instead of eating it.

They were sharing a bench in the senate gardens. Padme having decided that she wanted sunshine after a particularly grueling morning of debate and bargaining.

Ben hadn’t had a grueling day weeks. His days were incredibly dull. Every day he woke up in the past he looked forward to two things: lunch with Padme and evenings with Rey. Everything else was filler.

“Anakin Skywalker?” Padme checked, as though there were a great many Skywalkers in the galaxy. “I’m not sure I can tell you much.”

That was another obstacle. How was he supposed to help when Anakin disliked him and Padme pretended she barely knew Anakin?

To interfere in their lives he would have to be in their circle of trust. But it seemed like that was an incredibly exclusive circle.

Ben sighed, ready to drop the conversation. Padme still barely knew him, after all. It would not do to go around asking her too many personal questions too soon.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

Padme finally threw the bread crumbs.

“Why do you ask?” She asked, cagely.

Ben scrambled, trying to come up with something convincing without outright lying to his grandmother.

“It’s nothing. I--”

Someone in the distance caught his eye. Ben sat up. “Rey?”

The person who’d just passed Ben’s sight from several manicured paths away turned back. And it was Rey. But he had known it was, even if she hadn’t been wearing her hair in those three buns. He knew the set of her shoulders, knew her profile, and he’d be a liar if he claimed he wasn’t acutely aware of how her perfect ass peaked out from under the hem of the Jedi tunics she wore.

“There you are!” She yelled from across the garden--upsetting Padme’s congregation of birds in the process--before jogging over to where he and Padme sat.

And trailing after her was...dear Force, she’d drug Kenobi from the Temple.

As she approached Ben stood to greet her and Rey flung herself at him. Which caught Ben off guard, because they’d rarely shown such casual affection before. They’d shared several instances of intimacy, but this was different. Not better or worse, exactly. Ben didn’t mind it.

He caught her in his arms, which was easy, since she was so slight. Once in close proximity Rey brought her mouth close to his ear.

“Kenobi says he’ll take me to build a lightsaber if I learn how to shield. My own,” Rey whispered, her breath tickling his ear, making him shiver despite her words. “With a real kyber crystal and everything. Can you help me, Ben? You’re my only hope.”

Ben understood the implications perfectly. Kyber was rare when they were from. It’s an incredible opportunity, that Rey won’t likely get again. But she would have to go offworld to get it and that entailed plenty of dangers that had nothing to do with the knot that twisted in Ben’s stomach at the thought of her leaving him again.

She’d told him about her struggles learning to shield. The issue could be resolved easily through the bond. Rey could pluck the know how out of his memories. And Ben would have the bond open again. He could leave it open on his end and let her filter him out when she needed to. It wouldn’t be his responsibility anymore. Which would be a relief.

Still, she had asked for him to close it. It would have been a simple matter to tell him about her opportunity through the bond. There wouldn’t have been a need for proximity. No real need for her to throw her arms around him. She’d found a way to share secrets without the bond and Ben wasn’t complaining about the alternative method.

He understood what it took for her to ask for this, after all the ground they’d covered. But, just like this hug, Ben could get the information to her without the bond.

Ben agreed to help and Rey slid out of his arms and smiled up at him. He could do it her way. It was easy and it’s what she was asking. But he was confident she could learn without the bond.

Rey stepped away and over her shoulder he could see Kenobi frowning at them. Before he could process what Kenobi was displeased about there was a rustling of fabric behind Ben.

“Oh. Hi,” Rey said, blinking rapidly at Padme.

His grandmother was bedecked in a high-waisted blue velvet gown. The color of which shifted from dark around the hem to light at the shoulders, where a high collar was embroidered and beaded with creams and pearls.

She looked like she’d been swept away by a wave; choked with seafoam. She was also wearing the biggest grin.

“Hello,” she said, warmly, catching Rey’s hands in her own. “You must be Rey. I’ve heard _so much_ about you.”

Both women glanced at Ben, who felt his ears burn at their scrutiny. Rey’s gaze was curious, expectant. Padme’s was smug and playful.

“Senator Amidala,” Kenobi greeted as he joined their group and gallantly saved Ben from embarrassing himself. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Padme said, sharing her smile with Kenobi. “It’s good to see you well.”

“Likewise,” Kenobi said with a kind smile. “I see you’ve met Rey.”

Ben looked at them and--yes, Padme still had a tight hold on Rey’s hands. Rey looked bemused at the prolonged contact.

“We were just getting to that,” Padme told Kenobi.

“Then allow me. Senator,” Kenobi offered, with a respectful incline of his head at no one in particular. “This is Jedi Initiate Rey of Jakku. Rey, Senator Amidala of Naboo.”

“Oh, call me Padme,” Padme said, in a tone that seemed to insist Rey’s compliance and chide Kenobi in the same breath.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rey said with feeling. Ben wondered where her mind was at, exactly.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Padme insisted. Ben had a feeling that she would tease him mercilessly later. “What brings you to the senate gardens, Rey?”

“I wanted to ask Ben to help me learn to shield my mind. Obi-Wan’s method is difficult for me to grasp.”

Kenobi frowned at that. “To clarify. My method is the traditional method that all Jedi use,” he told Padme. “It’s been passed down for a thousand generations.”

“There’s nothing wrong with consulting an outside opinion,” Padme said before turning entreating eyes to Ben. “Will you help her?”

“If you let go of her,” Ben couldn't help but tease.

Padme glanced down at their still clasped hands with a laugh before letting Rey go. “Would you mind if I stay and watch?” She asked Rey. “The Jedi are very secretive about the range of their abilities and I am terribly curious.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be much of a show, Padme,” Kenobi informed her, before Rey had the chance to answer.

“I don’t mind,” Rey relented.

Great. An audience.

Ben wasted no time scoping out a secluded spot for he and Rey to sit, face-to-face on the grass, while Kenobi and Padme found a nearby bench.

“Alright,” Ben began once they were all settled. “Show me what Obi-Wan’s taught you.”

Rey gave him a quizzical look, but she couldn’t very well just say: “Open up and let me in,” while Kenobi sat right there. She’d told Ben she had convinced Kenobi it was a training bond and access to memories wasn’t part of that. So Rey straightened her spine, closed her eyes, and focused. After a moment, Ben reached out with the Force.

“It’s just a plain wall,” Ben said, looking askance at Kenobi.

“It is _many_ plain walls,” Kenobi said, smugly. “Layers and layers of them.”

Was that so? Ben turned back to Rey. Back in her mind he felt the edge of her outermost wall. It was solid; there wasn’t a crack to be found. So that couldn’t be the problem.

Ben pushed, experimentally. Rey tried to keep them up but they tumbled down, one after the other.

“If one comes down they all go,” Ben murmured, his eyes still closed.

“Yes,” he heard Kenobi say. “I am aware.”

Ben opened his eyes and leveled Kenobi with a flat stare. “I was narrating for Padme.” To Rey he said, “Why do you think you can’t hold them?”

Rey threw a guilty glance at Kenobi before answering. “They’re just walls, Ben,” she said with a shrug. “They don’t stand forever.”

It was belief then. Just as Ben thought. Rey believed they were insufficient to protect her mind, so they were. Ben had had a similar problem. Years and years ago.

“I can work with that,” Ben told her. “When I was taught, I was told I’d have to shield myself with something I believed was impenetrable.”

“Impenetrable?” Rey shook her head. “Everything can be destroyed.”

“This is a method of shielding I’m not familiar with,” Kenobi said, skeptically. “What faction did you say your first training master adhered to?”

“I didn’t,” Ben said simply. Yoda knew Ben had trained as a Jedi, if the Grand Master wanted Kenobi aware then he could tell him. Ben didn’t want to discuss it.

When it was clear that Ben wasn’t going to elaborate Kenobi cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’re saying that Rey believes she can bring down walls, therefore anyone can destroy them?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fascinating,” he drawled, appeased for now.

“What else can she hide behind?” Padme asked. Ben wondered, briefly, what her interest in this was. Then feels like an imbecile for not realizing. If all went well, she was going to be mothering Force sensitives. Padme was the type of person who would want to know everything she could about what her children would be going through.

“People hide behind a lot of things,” he said, as much in answer to Padme’s question as for Rey’s benefit. “For instance, I understood Luke’s lesson to mean I needed to use something that I knew I’d never overcome.”

“Never overcome?” Rey took a moment to mull this over. “May I see?”

Ben inclined his head, giving her permission.

He felt Rey brush his mind and kept his memories and his desires and every part of himself that mattered safely inside his shield. He knew what it was that Rey would run up against. He’d constructed it that way.

“The _Millennium Falcon_?”

“I saw the outside of that ship a lot,” Ben admitted.

When he opened his eyes Rey was looking at him empathetically. “Something you’d never overcome.”

“I don’t like this,” Kenobi said.

Ben looked over to him in surprise. Padme, who it appeared had been steadily leaning forward with rapt attention, turned to look at him too. “Why?” She asked, before Ben could.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Kenobi said. “But it sounds like you are using your emotions to inform how you wield the Force.”

“So?” Ben asked.

Kenobi frowned at him. “That’s an inherently dark way to do it.”

Padme’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Using your emotions is of the dark side?”

“Being ruled by your emotions is of the dark side,” Kenobi told her. “Besides, it’s not his use of them I take issue with. It’s the emotion he’s using.”

Ben scoffed. “I’m shielding myself with my father’s ship. How is that dark?” Of all the atrocities he’d been accused of in his life. Honestly.

“It sounds to me like you are hiding behind your resentment,” Kenobi said, as though scolding a child. “Not some whimsical belief that your father could protect you.”

Ben grit his teeth. He shouldn’t have allowed the audience.

Kenobi continued, oblivious to Ben’s rising ire, or at least unmoved by it. “This is not how Rey should be learning. She has to let those types of emotions those, those--grudges go!”

“I wouldn't call it a grudge.”

“You just said you use something you’ll never overcome,” Kenobi pointed out. “You’ve stunted your own growth. Because it’s your shield and you need it, therefore, you _can’t_ get over it.”

“Our childhood hurts often get carried over into our adult lives, Obi-Wan,” Padme ruminated. “That doesn’t make them of the dark side.”

Kenobi crossed his arms, petulantly. “I disagree. So too does the Jedi Code--”

“I’ve got it!” Rey exclaimed, out of nowhere. “Try it now.”

Kenobi freezed, staring at Rey in open mouthed shock. “Unbelievable.”

“If it works…” Padme said, soothingly.

“Yes, yes. She’ll _just_ be one step closer to the dark side.”

“I can hear you!” Rey yelled, glaring at Kenobi.

To his credit, Kenobi leveled Rey with a hard stare of his own. “This isn’t the proper way to do this.”

“I can’t do it the _proper way_ ,” Rey snarled.

“You’ve been trying for less than a week!”

Rey scowled at the reminder. “I need to make a lightsaber.”

Kenobi dropped his face into his hands. “This is what I get for listening to Anakin,” he mumbled.

Ben snorted at Kenobi’s theatrics, his anger at the man ebated in the face of Rey’s dedication.

“Ready?” He asked her. Rey nodded and he dove into her mind again.

He’s met with a wall.

It’s a different wall than before. It’s a specific wall. It’s not plain, it’s inscribed. Not with words, but with thousands and thousands of small vertical lines.

Ben felt along it. It was infinite. Stretching from the beginning to the end of time.

Ben pushed against it. It didn't budge. If anything it grew taller at his scrutiny. Making him feel inconsequential in the face of its vastness.

Kenobi should be happy with Rey’s progress.

It was not an emotion that Rey has decided to shield herself with. Not exactly.

It was wasted time.

* * *

Palpatine’s directions are easy to follow but when Anakin reached the office of the Loyalist Committee it was nearly empty. And none of the few people still present were Padme.

With a curse Anakin doubled back to Padme’s office where C-3PO told him that she was taking her lunch break in the gardens. He went straight there but neither Padme, nor Ben were anywhere to be found.


	12. try your whole life, to be righteous and be good (wind up on your own floor, choking on blood)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello, I am long back from vacation and I have not written anything in two weeks. 😬 Let's all be glad I have a few chapters stored up for such situations. I feel like I'm using a chapter that was behind one of those 'in case of emergency break glass' cases. Thank you all so much for your patience and all of the comments you've sent me. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Sept 15th 1986" by The Mountain Goats.

Anakin stayed at the Senate Dome that whole day. He knew where to find Padme now, but she wouldn’t appreciate if he interrupted her work. So he waited. He could wait.

With nothing else to do he did a lot of thinking.

He was going to go to Padme’s apartment that night and every night, from then on. No exceptions. He missed her, and obviously his staying away was causing her to get some strange ideas if she was spending time with Ben Solo.

He will tell her what has kept him away. About the Force sending Rey. About his suspicions that Rey is related to them.

He’ll tell her about his nightmares.

He’ll tell her that he loved her more than anything.

Anakin waited in a secluded corner in the Senate Dome for the rest of the day. When the sun was fully down he decided that it was time to see if he could locate his wife.

He stood up--his stiff joints popping--intending to check her office one last time.

That was when he heard the scream echo through the empty hallways.

* * *

Shortly after the shielding lesson Kenobi insisted that he and Rey needed to go back to the Temple. Padme had tried to argue--Ben had a feeling that her request that Rey and Kenobi stay a while longer was partly for his benefit--but Kenobi was obviously aggravated with Ben’s lesson, and it’s success, and was ready to sequester Rey back with good, proper Jedi.

Besides, Kenobi had claimed he had many preparations to make if he and Rey were going to go to Ilum so soon.

Padme had pouted at their retreating backs but it bothered Ben very little to see them go. He’d be seeing Rey later, regardless of Kenobi’s mood.

Ben spent the rest of the distinctly boring day with his thoughts on Rey and where the evening would take them. After their kiss the night before and Rey’s general good mood that day, the possibilities were endless.

But first he had to get through the day. This incredibly long, grueling day where it seemed like every one of the Loyalist Committee staff members were dead set on working late. Especially the two senators he was most inclined to keep safe.

By sundown, Padme and Bail were still hard at work. Ben was very disappointed by his grandparents’ working habits. Even if those habits were incredibly familiar to him.

It was well after dark had fallen on this hemisphere of Coruscant before Bail stretched, looked up from his work, and noticed that Ben was still there. Possibly remembered that Ben was obligated to stay until all of the senators called it a day, and took pity on him.

“Perhaps that’s enough for one day, Padme,” Bail said with a nod in Ben’s direction when Padme looked at her colleague like he’d lost his mind.

Padme looked over to Ben, blinked in confusion and then balked. “Ben, what are you still doing here?”

“I can’t leave until you all do,” he reminded her, a bit more testily than the situation truly demanded.

“Well that--you should have said something,” she chided, putting her datapad on standby and standing with it still in her hand. Ben knew that that likely meant she intended to do more work when she arrived to her own home. Ben frowned at her, pointedly, not being able to speak plainly in front of Bail. Padme simply put the datapad behind her back and ignored him.

Bail, to his credit was intuitive beyond reason. Walking behind Padme during her silent exchange with Ben, he plucked her datapad out of her hands. “It just goes to show that we need to take breaks more often, my friend,” he said when Padme wheeled on him with an outraged ‘Hey!’

Bail pointedly stored his own datapad in the drawer of one of the desks, along with Padme’s. “We could both use a good night’s sleep.”

“As long as that’s settled,” Ben said, standing, before Padme could say anything about this treatment.

She turned to glare at him but then sighed with a glance at the chrono. “I didn’t mean to keep you so late.”

“It wasn’t just you,” Bail reminded her, giving Ben an apologetic look.

“Yes, yes,” Ben said with a wave of his hand toward the door. Trying to herd them out of the office. “You will both be very sorry until this time tomorrow, surely.”

Padme laughed at him as she made her way toward the door. “I promise to never keep you this late again,” she said, in mock seriousness, hand over her heart.

“As do I,” Bail said, following her into the hallway. “Unless what I’m doing is very important.”

“Or _very_ interesting,” Padme said.

“Or _slightly_ interesting.”  

“Ha,” Ben deadpanned as Bail keyed in the code to lock the door. “You two think you’re funny.”

“We do not make promises lightly,” Padme assured, smiling up at him with genuine affection.

Ben found his annoyance evaporating at the sight of her smile.

The three of them start to go their separate ways for the night.

Ben felt the energy coming only moments before it was too late. So distracted was he by the easy friendship these two people show him.

“Duck!”

Bail, to his credit dropped to the floor immediately.

Padme, in her current condition, wasn’t nearly as agile.

Ben reacted on instinct, and it was a good thing he did. He willed the blaster bolt’s trajectory to stop with the Force. It froze, suspended in the air inches from Padme’s face.

Belatedly, Padme screamed. Mostly in shock, Ben thought, as she quickly got a hold of herself and took a shaky step away from the buzzing, roiling energy bolt.

Bail was still on the ground, watching the scene unfold with numb horror.

“Should we hide while you go after the assailant?” Padme asked, her voice thin.

“No need,” Ben told her. He was searching for the shooter the moment he knew his grandmother was safe. It was no great feat to use the Force to zero in on a being in a nearby building who was was surrounded by a haze of darkness; oozing ill intent. “I’ve already caught them.”

“Wha--” Padme started but stopped abruptly when she looked through the window--hairline cracks surrounded a small hole from the blaster fire’s entry--and saw what Ben was doing.

Ben had used the Force to grab hold of the assassin from his lookout and was willing him in the building with Ben. To the effect of a screaming man being propelled through the air towards them by an unseeable means.

The window shattered inward with the force that Ben pulled the bounty hunter through it. The man’s trajectory didn't stop until his throat was in Ben’s outstretched hand.

“Who sent you?” Ben demanded. The man was struggling, kicking his legs, searching in vain for purchase. He was clawing at Ben’s hand, holding him suspended in midair.

“I’ll never speak, Jedi!” He managed to grit out through the pressure on his airway.

Ben sneered at him. A bounty hunter, surely. Those sorts were usually of unpredictable capability but this one had the misfortune of coming too close to sucess for Ben’s liking.

“You’ve been misinformed,” he growled. “I am not a Jedi.”

Ben used his free hand to punch the man in the face; his nose gushing blood. This had two objectives: to make Ben feel better and to rattle the bounty hunter’s senses.

While he was groaning and griping and disoriented, Ben pushed into his head. He had a job to do after all.

Ben watched the memory of the bounty hunter setting Padme in his sights and pulling the trigger. He followed the thread of that memory and found one of interest: A man in a hood commissioning the bounty hunter. The man in the memory looked so similar to the images of the Emperor that Ben had seen; there was little doubt who sent the assassin.

Palpatine was making a move. Although, what his intent was, Ben could only speculate.

* * *

Anakin took the senate hallways at a dead sprint, running in the direction of the scream--which had abruptly stopped. He opened his senses to the Force, looking for Padme. Surely, she was safely home by now. Surely she wasn't--

He didn't feel Padme (It was a long shot, anyway. All non-Force users have faint presences in the Force). What he felt was a tempest. A floor above him the Force is roiling, darkness and light gathering to amass at a central storm. Anakin had felt this gale before.

It was Ben Solo’s presence. Although, usually it was more bluster than barrage. That didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. Anakin was all too aware of the dangers of such volatile moods.

Anakin pushed the Force to put an extra boost on his speed; propelling himself faster than his legs ought to reasonably go, toward the disturbance.

Something was terribly wrong.

When Anakin came upon the scene Ben was gripping a man by his throat, his toes barely skimmed the floor. Ben wasn’t even using the Force to do this, as far as Anakin could tell. No, Ben’s too busy rifling through the man’s mind, if the way his other hand was outstretched was any indication.

It didn't look pleasant. The man was making a terrible gurgling sound from the pressure on his throat and his head was thrown back; his open eyes flitting back and forth, wildly. No doubt he was a bystander in the path of Ben’s intrusion, powerless to stop it, even in his own mind.

Anakin had committed his fair share of violence for the safety and stability of the Republic on the warfront. He wasn’t a stranger to carefully engineered brutality.

Still, he was….not used to being on the outside looking in on such encounters. It gave him pause to consider the other details of the scene.

The floor was littered with broken glass, the sounds of Coruscanti air traffic came into the building loud and clear from the open wound of a window. Padme and Bail Organa were there; on the opposite side of Ben than Anakin. They looked shell shocked, but otherwise unharmed.

They were staring at Ben in abject horror. They might not understand what Ben was doing in the Force, but witnessing a being pick up another bodily in such way was a spectacle, in and of itself.

Anakin was a little taken by it himself.

Still, if Ben was going to be the unstable clout, then that meant Anakin had to play the voice of reason. That was just how these things were.

Anakin walked up to Ben, his boots crunching from the mess on the floor. There was blood, he could see once he was closer, on the man’s face and Ben’s knuckles.

Carefully--slowly, Anakin laid a hand on Ben’s shoulder. The contact was enough to bring Ben out of the man’s head and into the present moment, with a jolt.

“Ben,” Anakin said, making an effort to keep his voice low and calm. “This isn’t right.”

Ben turned his head to regard Anakin but didn't put the man down. “Anakin, this is what the Jedi asked me to do.”

Anakin didn't say anything to that. What could he say? He had no idea what the Jedi Council had in mind when they had sent Ben to the Senate Dome. He could only imagine that this result was what they deserved for such folly.

Ben narrowed his eyes at Anakin, glaring, as if he knew the vein of Anakin’s thoughts.

Finally, haltingly, Ben set the man down, where he promptly collapsed onto the floor, coughing and weezing.

“You need to let the Jedi know there’s been an attempt on Senator Amidala’s life,” Ben said, giving no indication that he was going to leave the man’s side until a Jedi other than Anakin arrived.

Anakin wanted to argue that he didn't know what had happened here, but, well, it was obvious everything about this was wrong. So he pulled out his comm and called for backup. That taken care of he looked to Padme, who was watching them warily. She was pale and shaking.

Anakin started to take a step in her direction before Ben spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

“Padme,” Ben said, his voice, soft and supplicant, caught Anakin off guard. “You need to step aside for me to let that go.”

Wordlessly, Padme nodded and backed away from them, toward Bail. Her shoulder trailing the wall behind her, as if she was using it for support.

“Let what--” Then he saw it. He was not entirely sure _what_ he was looking at. Some flickering streak of light hovering in midair.

No one answered Anakin’s unfinished question but he saw Ben wave his hand in his periphery and suddenly the streak of light jolted into the wall near where Padme had been standing, sending up a shower of sparks.

Anakin jumped, taken aback by the sudden movement and explosive impact. There was a hole in the wall where it made entry; blackened around the edges, as if burnt. Had it been a blaster bolt?

Anakin’s mind was running with questions. He didn't ask a single one. Everyone was speechless. The only sound was the wailing of approaching sirens and the steady weezing of the man on the floor.

* * *

Mace Windu arrived shortly after with several members of the Coruscant Security Force. Ben detailed the events of the night to Mace as Anakin listened closely.

Mace frowned disapprovingly when Ben admitted to gathering information from the bounty hunter’s head via the Force. But still, he asked: “Did you learn anything of importance?”

“He was hired by the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious.”

Anakin jolted at the mention of the Sith Lord’s title. That was carefully guarded knowledge. No one outside of the Jedi Order knew the unknown Sith’s title. He could tell from the intense frown on Mace’s face that the Jedi Council hadn’t shared that information with Ben. That it gave credibility to his information. But Ben was from the future, it was likely he already knew that name. He could use his knowledge of the future to trick the Jedi. They had to take all information from him with skepticism.

“To what end would the Sith orchestrate this attack?” Mace asked.

Ben’s answer was simple: “This was a warning.”

The answer chilled Anakin for reasons he couldn't pinpoint. Possibly the Force giving validity to Ben’s statements. Still, there wasn't much either of them could do now. The Coruscant Security Force took the bounty hunter away. A medical droid was called to look at Padme and Bail. The Chancellor arrived, having been informed of the ongoing situation in the Senate Dome. When Ben was given permission to leave after giving his testimony Anakin followed, after glancing at Padme to be sure that she was alright for now. She was sitting in the floor, being seen too by Palpatine.

He had unfinished business, after all.

"Wait, Ben!" Anakin jogged to catch up to Ben. His presence in the Force had calmed somewhat but when he turned to look Anakin he was already scowling. He must have known that Anakin was following him. They were a floor below the scene--a floor below prying ears.

“Shouldn't you be helping with the investigation?" Ben asked, eyeing Anakin with contempt. Which was unnecessary, really. What had Anakin ever done to Ben to warrant such scorn?

"I'll do my part,” Anakin answered, waving a hand dismissively. “Why are you hanging around Padme?"

Ben’s expression cleared into confusion. "What?"

Anakin wouldn't allow himself to be taken by such a good innocent act. Even if Ben’s eyes looked incredibly honest.

"What's your plan?” He demanded. “First you're all over Rey and now Palpatine tells me that you've been seeing Padme daily."

"I work with her,” Ben sneered. “The Jedi Council sent me there to protect her and the others. For good reason it seems.” Ss he spoke his voice lowered, dangerously. Until he practically growled: “Why are you talking to Palpatine about me?"

“Don't change the subject,” Anakin warned. “What are your intentions with Padme?”

“My _intention_ is to keep her safe.” Ben narrowed his eyes as Anakin, considering. “Don't tell me you’re jealous.”

The audacity! As if Padme could be interested in a violent man like Ben Solo. “You need to stay away from her,” Anakin spat.

“Force help me, Anakin,” Ben rolled his eyes, much to Anakin's resentment. “I'm not going to come between whatever it is the two of you have.”

Anakin’s mind blanked. “I don’t know what you mean...”

Ben actually looked furious at Anakin's assertion. “Banthashit! I know you’re the father.”

“How--”

“Anakin! Don’t be dense!”

Anakin wanted to take offense to Ben's tone but…

“Right.” The future, obviously.

“Why were you talking to Palpatine about me?” Ben asked again.

“That isn’t any of your business.”

Ben looked at him in disbelief. “It really is,” he insisted. “He’s trying to make you doubt Padme, isn’t he?”

Anakin recoiled, the accusation hitting him like a slap. “He would never! He cares for Padme.” Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this darksider really think he could make Anakin doubt Palpatine? One of his oldest friends? “He’s with her now.”

Ben moved with alarming speed for a man his size. Before Anakin realized what was happening, he'd been shoved into the wall, pinned roughly by Ben’s fists bunched in the front of his robes. It wasn't enough pressure to hurt, but Ben still had blood on his knuckles and the position kept Anakin from moving away from the piercing intensity of Ben’s stare. For some reason Ben was furious.

“If you really cared for Padme,” he snarled, “you’d keep her away from that monster.”

Monster. That word put Anakin in mind of the abomination Rey had shown him. Darth Vader. Sith...war veteran….father….

It was unsettling to think about.

But Palpatine wasn’t the monster here.

Ben was.

Anakin had heard enough.

“Stay away from me and my family, darksider,” he hissed with vehemence. “Stay away from Padme. Stay away from our child. Stay away from Rey.”

Ben scoffed at him and the vulnerable position Ben had him in wasn't lost on Anakin, but he would not be cowed.

“You’re not in a position to make dema--Wait,” Ben stopped, blinking at him in puzzlement. “Rey? What does this have to do with her?”

“Don’t pretend,” Anakin said, looking for a way out of Ben's proximity. “A Force user that strong? Even Obi-Wan has noticed the similarities.”

Ben considered this, then said, slowly: “You think Rey is...”

Ben was doing something odd with his mouth. It almost looked like he was trying not to--

“Bahahahahahaha!”

Ben let go of Anakin so he could double over. Laughing like a madman.

“Laugh all you want, but the signs are there. I’m not an idiot.”

If anything this only made Ben laugh harder.

Eventually, Ben straightened, wiping his eyes. “Anakin Skywalker,” he said, his tone serious but a sardonic smile lingering over his lips. “Rey is not related to you. You are not that lucky.”

Anakin had expected Ben to deny it, of course they'd have to keep the secrets of the future safe, but what he wasn't expecting was the hollow way the words rang true in the Force. That couldn't be the truth. Ben must be twisting his words somehow.

“I don’t believe you,” Anakin insisted, stubbornly fighting back undue disappointment.

Ben’s face twisted. “What reason could I possibly have to lie to you about that?”

Anakin said nothing. He couldn't think of a good reason but he won’t take Ben at face value.

“Fine,” Ben spat. “Don’t believe me. But _please_ go get Padme away from Palpatine. _Someone_ needs to keep her safe.”

Anakin turned to leave, throwing a last doubtful look at Ben. “I can keep my wife safe without your help.”

He walked away, but not before catching a glimpse of the disgusted way Ben sneered at his words. Not before hearing the dreadful words: “Historically, you couldn’t.”

* * *

Padme could still feel the heat of the blaster bolt on her face.

The brightness of it was burned into her vision. She closed her eyes and still, blaster fire lit the darkness behind her lids.

She was in shock. She knew this, knew the signs. Her hands and feet had gone numb. Her ears were ringing, her head was light but her body was so heavy. She couldn't catch her breath.

It shouldn’t affect her like this. She had been in plenty of fire fights.

But it had been right _there_. Staring her in the face. Death.

The baby was squirming, unsettled, unhappy.

“Padme, my dear. You must breath.”

The voice was familiar but she couldn't place it right then. It wa coming to her as though from a great distance.

“Padme. Inhale.”

She focused on the voice and its instructions. She breathed deeply in, filling her lungs.

“Exhale.”

Padme exhaled.

“Good. Again. Inhale.”

So it went, until Padme’s breaths were even and her ears were no longer ringing.

She opened her eyes. It was Chancellor Palpatine beside her, crouched down on his haunches. She was sitting in the floor of the corridor, back against the wall. She didn't remember sitting. She was glad she didn’t faint. Didn’t fall. She’d put the baby through so much already.

“Do you need a Med-droid, my dear? You’ve been through an ordeal.”

“No,” Padme said automatically. “I’m fine.”

She was taking in her surroundings now. Trying to ground herself. The corridor was filled with investigators and droids, taking pictures of the scene and talking in low, grim voices. Their tracks crunching on the glass of the broken windows, grounding it into the fibers of the carpeted floor. Bail was speaking to a detective. The assassin had been taken away. She didn’t see Anakin. Hadn’t he been here? Had she imagined that? Ben was nowhere in sight. Master Windu was there instead, overseeing. He was staring at her; he was giving her the strangest look. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Padme?” Palpatine put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly Padme was aware of her own body again. She had both arms wrapped protectively over her belly.

She forced herself to let go and straighten her garments.

Windu looked away.

“Padme,” Palpatine said again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Padme turned to give him a reassuring smile. His brow furrowed in concern, already unconvinced.

“I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up.”

“Yes, well,” Palpatine conceded with a wry grimace. “In my limited experience, being in close quarters when the Jedi use their lightsabers to deflect blaster fire does do a number on one’s nerves. But--and do forgive me for saying so--I’d think you’d be much accustomed to it by now."

Padme was shaking her head before Palpatine finished speaking. “This was--It wasn’t--This was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

Palpatine hummed noncommittally. Clearly believing her to still be in a state of shock and therefore, unsure of what she was saying.

“He didn’t deflect it.”

Palpatine blinked, surprised. “Then how did it not kill you?” He asked, plainly. “Organa says it was a close call. Yet you are unharmed.”

“It _was_ close,” Padme breathed, remembering the heat of it. So close. Surely, her eyebrows were singed. “Too close.”

Palpatine gave her a doubtful look.

“It was right here.” Padme held her hand up to approximate where the bolt stopped. Her palm nearly touching her nose.

“I don’t--”

“Ben stopped it,” Padme said in grim awe. “Froze it in midair with the Force.”

Palpatine froze. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breath. Just sat for a moment and stared at her in blank shock. “I...see…” He said slowly, feeling out the words. Padme wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. “That is...not an ability the Jedi--er, ahm--That is not a feat I’ve ever seen a Jedi perform.”

“Ben Solo is not a Jedi.”

“It seems not.”

It could be the shock, but Padme thought this was an incredibly odd thing to say.

“You don’t suppose there is any surveillance footage of this feat?” Palpatine asked her before she could ask for clarification. “I understand it is dreadful for me to ask you after what you’ve been through but I am terribly curious.”

“Oh. I suppose, I--”

“Chancellor. Senator.”

Padme looked up and was incredibly relieved to see Anakin.

“Ah, good, Anakin,” Palpatine greeted him, holding out an arm to Padme and beginning the process of helping her to her feet. “Please escort Senator Amidala to her apartments for the night. She’s going to need the extra security for the foreseeable future. It wouldn’t hurt if he stayed there, right Master Windu?” This was directed at the Jedi Master who had approached the group, unnoticed by Padme. He was standing to Padme’s left, across from Palpatine and Anakin; arms crossed and frowning at the three of them.

“I don’t see what _more_ harm it could do,” he said, effectively granting Anakin permission to spend the night with his wife.

Padme would have to be more than shocked to recognize that Mace Windu was--at the very least--suspicious. In that moment, she couldn’t truly care. Anakin was coming home with her. She could hug the surily Jedi.


	13. when you came in i could breathe again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****There is smut in this chapter! It's Anidala. If you don't want to read it stop when Anakin kneels in front of Padme and pick up after the page break.**** (I've never written smut before so if it's weird, that's why. lol)
> 
> That being said, I feel like I should also give fair warning that this chapter is emotionally, pretty heavy. Please keep in mind that Anakin's character in RoTS is a character in descent. If the way I choose to portray that bothers you then please feel free to read someone else's fic. If it bothers you but you're too invested to stop now then take comfort in the fact that he won't be like this forever. He still has a whole arc in this fic to get through. Padme too.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from a song The Mountain Goats did with Kaki King called: "Thank You Mario But Our Princess Is In Another Castle."

Padme’s spirits plummeted as she and Anakin made their way to 500 Republica. His hand, on the small of her back as they left the Senate Dome, grasped her robes like holding onto an errant child; which rackled, more than a bit. It didn’t feel like concern for her safety.

When she tried to ask what was wrong he barely spared her a glance--his face taut, his eyes burning, fuming--before he looked away.

“Wait until we get home,” he demanded.

Padme liked when he referred to her apartments as ‘home’--so that settled her enough to comply--but she didn’t like his tone.

So they rode to 500 Republica in simmering silence; a bad feeling churning in her gut.

“Welcome home, Mistress Padme!” C-3PO greeted her with cheer when they finally arrived. She had forgotten that she’d sent him back hours ago. It felt good that someone was excited to see her.

“And Master Anakin,” 3PO exclaimed in delight, raising his arms. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“It’s good to see you too, C-3PO,” Anakin said, sparing the droid a strained smile. “Can you make something for Padme? To calm her down? There was an attack today.”

“Oh, my. Of course, right away.”

Padme watched C-3PO tottle into the kitchen before turning to glare at her husband. “I’m plenty calm.”

Anakin ignored her, throwing himself on one of the couches with a great sigh and flinging his prosthetic arm over his eyes.

Padme very much wanted to go to bed. Perhaps take a warm bath first, to soothe her nerves. She hadn't been lying to Anakin, she was calm right now, but she could still feel the after effects of shock tingling in her extremities. Also, she should probably eat something.

But...

She loved Anakin Skywalker, dramatics and all. She was his wife and he clearly had something on his mind. As much as she was sure she would not enjoy this conversation, it took precedent. By virtue of the fact that she hadn't seen Anakin for months. Not really. Force only knew where he was at emotionally and mentally after a five month deployment.

Padme took a deep breath and swallowed her unease--because she was uneasy. She was wary of him after so long without him in her daily life, five months wasn’t an insignificant amount of time and he had stayed away from her for days and days when he could have been _here,_ easing back into their life together. She was clueless as to his reasons for staying away; she'd have to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

“Ani,” she said, coming to sit beside him on the sofa, her voice soothing and soft. She began to pet his hair, running her fingers through the soft-as-silk curls. “Talk to me, please.”

“Why are you spending time with Ben Solo?” He asked, not removing his arm from his eyes, his voice ragged.

Oh.

The incident with Rush Clovis was still fresh on her mind. She would not like to revisit that side of Anakin anytime soon.

“Don't be jealous,” she pleaded. ”It isn't like that.”

“I'm not _jealous_ ,” Anakin snarled, removing his arm only to glare at her. As if it was such a foundless conclusion to jump to. “I’m worried.”

“Worried? Why?”

“He’s a darksider, Padme.”

Well, that was...Padme wasn't surprised. Not really. Ben had told her that he'd done terrible things in his past. And after what she'd witnessed tonight it seemed fitting. But...Ben was her friend. He'd told her he was trying to be a better person. Even if it was just for the love of one person, that was a start.

Besides, she knew a thing or two about dark side Force users herself--namely, that they were people.

“So is Ventress and she helped Ahsoka that night--”

Anakin jumped to his feet just to round on her. “ _I_ helped Ahsoka!” He yelled, pointing at his chest so hard that there was an audible _thump._

Alright, clearly that was still a sore spot for him. She should not have brought it up in her defense. But...she missed Ahsoka too. She had tried to help her too. She'd been her legal counsel. “Lots of people tried to help Ahsoka, Anakin,” she reminded him.

Anakin turned away from her and began to pace the length of the sofa. “I don’t like you being around him.”

“The Jedi are the ones who sent him to help us,” Padme pointed out. A good decision on their part, if tonight was any indication. If Ben hadn’t been there Padme would be--

If she closed her eyes she could still see the bright blaster bolt in front of her face.

“I don’t agree with the Council’s decision,” Anakin declared, breaking her out of her dark thoughts.

“Obviously.” He was still pacing, thinking. Padme was sure he wasn't really listening to her, he has spun himself into a state of paranoia.

“He’s up to something, Padme.”

“Did you come here just to argue?” She could really use that bath.

Anakin rounded on her again. Oh, he heard that. “I came here to warn you,” he said in disbelief. “You’re the one _arguing_.”

Of course this was on her, because she’s the one who has been enjoying spending time with someone who showed an interest in her pregnancy. Whose interest was making her excited about motherhood. Where before she either didn’t think about it or she looked with dread to the moment she’d have to own up to the truth and possibly lose her career. Or at the very least the respect of her colleagues.

She’d been carrying the burden of this secret _alone_ for months. Telling herself that she’d feel better about the whole thing when she could finally share the news with her husband.

Anakin had known for days. He hadn’t asked about anything.

Padme understood that he was under an enormous amount of stress because of the war. That losing Ahsoka was wearing on him more than he cared to admit. She knew that the news would take some getting used to. She was still getting used to it and she was the one carrying the child.

Was it so much to expect a bit of support? She’d sent what was left of her handmaidens back to Naboo shortly after she and Anakin had gotten married, so they could have privacy and to ensure secrecy. She’d stopped comm-ing her family because she couldn’t actually share with them anything true about her life. It was too much, to look at her mother’s face, even on a holoprojector, and tell lie after lie.

She felt so alone.

But Anakin was so upset. Padme hated to see him upset. Especially when it was within her power to fix it. But she didn’t want to give up her lunches with Ben either. Not without a reason...

“What do you think he’s up to?” She made herself ask. She didn't think he was up to anything. Was it so odd to believe that someone might just want to be her friend? Was she being foolish? Regardless, Anakin clearly needed to vent.

Anakin sighed and sunk onto the couch beside her once again. She resumed petting his hair in the way he liked. “I’m not sure but…” He looked to her, his eyes feverish and frightened. “I’ve been having such terrible dreams.”

Padme’s heart was gripped by his words. She didn’t like to remember their last visit to Tatooine, but…

“Like the dreams you had about your mother?” She asked. Her voice came out in a whisper, despite herself. It wouldn’t do to show him that his words frightened her.

“Exactly like that. Except...they’re about you.” His eyes glistened and she put a hand on his cheek. “In them, you die in childbirth.”

“And the baby?” Padme snatched her hands back, putting them on her stomach. It was very much an instinctual movement but Anakin looked momentarily hurt by the withdraw. He mastered himself, however, much to her relief.

Anakin glanced down at her stomach. Surprisingly, he smiled--just a twitch of his lips--and put his flesh hand overtop of hers. “I think the baby will be fine.”

Padme sighed in relief.

“But I won’t lose you, Padme.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she told him with her mouth. _The baby will be fine_ , her heart sang. Everything would be alright as long as their child lived.

She took his flesh hand in both of hers, brought it to her lips, kissed his knuckles, his palm. They could table this pointless argument about Ben Solo now, right? Anakin had shared with her the root of his fears. She had reassured him. _Everything is fine_.

C-3PO must have been waiting for their argument to fizzle because he came in with a tray of herbal tea and sat it on the low table in front of the couch. There are two cups, Padme noticed. Clearly she was not the only one who thought Anakin needed to calm down, sometimes.

“Thank you, 3PO,” she smiled up at him. She didn't know what she’d do without him, sometimes. “That will be all for tonight. Anakin and I will have our tea and then we will be retiring as well.”

“In that case, sleep well,” C3PO bowed and turned, hopefully going to power down for the night.

Content, Padme poured herself a cup of tea and leaned back to sip. The tea was tepid from C-3PO’s long wait and Padme felt guilty he had to listen to them arguing. Still, it was good. It wasn't dinner but it was better than nothing.

“So you’ll stop seeing Ben?”

Force help her.

She tried to hum, noncommittally while sipping her tea. It didn't work. Anakin kept watching her for an answer and sipping tea nonchalantly became ridiculous if it continued for too long.

She put her tea back on the table. What else could she say? _No, I don’t think I will?_

“What’s this really about Anakin?”

“He’s a danger to you.”

“I don’t think he is,” Padme shook her head, regretfully. “I’ve seen no evidence that he is.”

“He--I--Ben Solo is--Padme.” Her name came out in a whine: pad- _may._ “I have to tell you something...it’s going to sound crazy. But I need you to keep an open mind.”

“What is it, Ani? You know you can talk to me.”

Anakin took a deep, steadying breath. “Ben Solo and another Force user, named Rey--”

“I know who Rey is.”

"I--you do?” he asked, taken aback.

Padme nodded. “I met her today, actually. Lovely woman, very driven."

Anakin smiled, pleased with her assessment for some reason. “She is that.”

Padme knew she should leave it at that but she couldn't help herself as she added: “Ben is enamored by her.”

“What?” Anakin’s smile fell.

“It's sweet,” she insisted, refusing to be put off by his reaction.

Anakin’s expression soured further. “It's not. He's a darksider.”

“I thought love was antithetical to the dark side?” Padme asked.

“It is, but--”

“He's trying to change,” she couldn't help but add. She shouldn't nettle him on this issue; Anakin meant well, but Ben was her friend. She was certain she knew him better than Anakin.

“You can't come back from the dark side, Padme,” Anakin told her, grimly. “It will always be a part of you.”

“I'm not saying that it wouldn't. I'm just speculating that it doesn't always have to be a very large part.”

“This isn’t what I’m trying to tell you,” Anakin exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Ani,” she sighed, patiently. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Ben and Rey are from the future.”

Padme’s mind blanked. And then understanding came. Her poor husband’s mind had broken. No wonder he wasn’t acting as himself. It wasn’t that they’d changed too much over their separation. This must be something his mind had given him to process the horrors he’d seen at war. Maybe she should comm Obi-Wan. Anakin wasn’t well--

“I know you think I’ve lost my mind.”

“I don’t think that.” He was just sick.

“Of course you do,” Anakin took her hand in his. The prosthetic one, the leather of the glove he wore over it was cool to the touch. “It’s what I’d think if I were in your position. I’m asking you to suspend judgment for long enough to hear me out.”

Padme gave Anakin a terse nod. She could give him that much.

“They are from around fifty years from now,” he told her, earnestly. Whatever had led him to this reality, he believed it fully.

“I think they’re from a future where the Sith win against the Jedi. I think that’s the future I’m dreaming about.”

“How can you be sure?” Padme asked. “Sometimes dreams are just dreams.”

Anakin shook his head, as though disappointed in her. He stood, letting go of her hand, and started pacing again.

“Rey told me that they’re from the future. She thought I knew. Obi-Wan can confirm it, so ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

She knew it was a challenge from the way he glanced at her as he said it. He didn't really want her to ask Obi-Wan. In all likelihood Anakin should not be telling her any of this. He also knew that she won’t ask Obi-Wan for confirmation. Still, it stung that he thought he had to test her so. He thought she didn't--couldn’t--really trust him at his word.

“No one knows how they got on the _Invisible Hand_ , Padme,” he continued when she didn't rise to the bait. Talking to her but not really. He was thinking out loud--she just happened to be there.

“Even Count Dooku was surprised to see them. Wouldn’t he have known they were there if they were his prisoners? It was like they appeared out of nowhere. Obi-Wan was having a conniption because they didn’t have any shoes. And Rey knew about the baby--” Padme gasped in alarm but Anakin was too frantic to notice. “--even though I hadn't told anyone. _You_ had just told _me_ when she brought it up. I didn’t take her knowing my secrets well. I did something bad to her--”

“What did you do?” Padme demanded with rising alarm.

“--And she _shoved_ this _monster_ at me!” he continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “Rey told me that monster was a Sith Lord and Ben has a red lightsaber. Ben called _Palpatine_ a monster. Palpatine! Can you believe how pretentious that is! I might not know how or why he’s a threat to you but he’s connected to that future Sith somehow, I know it! I need you to trust me!”

Here Anakin turned to Padme, but she had already risen from the sofa and started to him. He folded her into his arms when she was close enough and she lay her head on his chest, troubled. She was overwhelmed and tired and Anakin was frightening her. She could hear his heart beat frantically in his chest.

“I do trust you, Anakin. This is--it’s just a lot. And--” Padme swallowed in trepidation before looking up into Anakin’s face. He didn't look well and his eyes were narrowed at her, as if he knew what the next words out of her mouth would be and knew he wouldn’t like them. “Ben saved my life today. I can’t ignore that.”

Anakin didn’t have any proof that Ben meant her harm. Other than the color of his lightsaber, which--Padme didn’t really know much about lightsabers, it was a color to her. All Padme knew was that she didn’t trust Anakin's paranoia and she didn't like him telling her who she could and couldn’t interact with.

His intentions were good, she knew that. Yet, she had given up so much to be with Anakin. He had too, she knew this as well. Wasn’t it past time they stopped asking each other to give things away for the sake of their marriage? It was not insignificant things they were losing.

Anakin’s face pinched in anger at her words, initially, but before her eyes he seemed to stop and think. His expression settled on apprehension.

“Maybe he has to keep you alive, for now.”

His words settled over Padme uneasily. “What do you mean?”

His hands came down to settle soothingly at her hips, it was her first clue that she wouldn’t like what he was going to say.

“It’s very likely that the baby will be powerful in the Force,” he told her, as if she didn't know. As if that thought hadn't occurred to her. As if the implications of that didn't keep her awake at night.

Then the implications of what he was saying settled on her fully.

Padme pushed herself away from him. “Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t say that.” She turned away, making her way back to the sofa. She needed to sit down. She couldn't deal with anymore tonight.

Her emotions had been so difficult for her to master since she’d been pregnant but tonight was testing her limits. She sat heavily, staring at him. Anakin said nothing. He didn't move. He watched her battle with her own reaction.

He can't do this to her. He can’t show no interest in their child and then say such things.

“Don’t make our child a target before he’s even born. Don’t say--” Don’t say that the only person who's shown an interest in her pregnancy had ugly, sinister motives for being her friend. Padme’s heart clinched. She had lost the battle with her emotions. Overwhelmed, Padme Naberrie began sobbing on the sofa.

“Padme! What--”

“Stop. Please,” Padme buried her face in her hands. She didn't want him watching her. This didn't mean he’d won the argument.

“This is important.” Anakin’s voice was hardened with disbelief. She had disappointed him again, but after the events of today she was having trouble finding that resolute woman she had been five months ago. If that was who Anakin had come here expecting then he had a lot of catching up to do. Padme hadn’t seen that woman in ages.

“Padme,” Anakin tried again. He had softened his tone, at least. “What’s this about?”

What wasn’t this about?

“Anakin,” her voice sounded like a plea and was thick with tears. She couldn't help it. It had been a terribly long day and she could see no end to this argument. No end except her compliance in the face of Anakin’s insistence and her own weariness. “I was nearly shot today.”

Anakin stopped short at her words, staring at her like he had just now noticed her there with him.

“Yes,” he said and it felt like the gravity of that was finally settling over him. After everything that had happened her _tears_ were what finally reminded him? She knew now that he has been worried for her. Did he stop to think that she might have died _today_? She might not have had the chance to die in childbirth or at the hands of any sinister entity (Ben Solo or otherwise). “You were.”

Suddenly he was kneeling in front of her, hands on her knees and eyes soft and contrite. “Forgive me, my love. These dreams have made me short-sighted.”

Padme dabbed her eyes on her sleeves and looked at him. She couldn't help but take pity on him. She had missed him so much. She wanted them to be good again.

She ran her hands through his curls, tousling them in the way she liked best. “Don’t look so far ahead that you leave me behind, Anakin,” she warned. “I need you here. Now.”

In answer Anakin planted a kiss on each of her knees, although, Padme couldn't feel more than a faint pressure though the cloth. “I am here now,” she heard him whisper into her skirts as he lay his head on her lap.

Padme sighed, content with this, for now. Perhaps now they could call it a day. Padme would be glad to see the end of it.

Anakin, ever restless, thought he was being subtle while sneaking his hands up his wife’s legs, underneath the folds of her gown. Padme considered being put off at the abrupt change from argument to appeasement. She has missed him. So much. They’ll have to reacquaint themselves with each other eventually.  

“I’m not the same woman I was when you left,” Padme warned. Clearly, as she could only see the top of his face over her growing midsection.

Anakin lifted his head enough to raise an eyebrow at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Padme announced, leaning back on the sofa.

“You couldn’t transform in such a way as to deter me, my love,” he told her with certainty. Pushing up her skirts and laying gentle, greedy kisses on the skin they revealed. “I would transform with you.”

Padme lifted her head to consider him as he kissed the side of her knee, making her twitch with a flick of his tongue over the sensitive skin on the underside.

She had changed in these last five months, it was true. Physically and mentally. But he had too. That was true also. Mentally, he’d seen much more of war than she cared to consider. He was rougher around the edges and prone to paranoia. She wasn’t entirely happy with these changes, perhaps being home would smooth and soothe him back into an Anakin she could recognize. Given time. Physically? Well, she was hoping to discover any differences in that regard tonight.

“And I you, my love.”

Finally, he had made it up to the junction of her thighs, discarding her undergarments with practiced haste. Some things did not change.

Padme shortly became a mess of fabric and legs.

As soon as her sex was bare Anakin grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the sofa cushions with a decisive tug. She had her arms full with as much of her own skirts as she could hold, not wishing to smother him with her garments.

He teased her first, he always did. Smiling mischievously up at her, he threw her legs over his shoulders and dived below her line of sight.

She had enjoyed watching this act, in the past. But right then, between her belly and her skirts she couldn't see anything but Anakin’s hunched shoulders.

She could feel him though. His grip was firm on her hips as he began to suckle and nibble at her inner thighs.

Trying to watch was pointless. She dropped her head to the back of the couch and looked up at her translucent ceiling. Above her, the lights of Coruscant night traffic drifted by in a steady stream. Below her, Anakin worked his way to her already dripping core, leaving a path of bruises and bites and saliva in his wake.

It had been so long that she whimpered when she felt his hot breath on her sex. Force help her, she was going to cry if he didn't touch her soon.

“Have you missed me, Padme?” He asked her cunt.

“Dearly,” she answered, flexing her legs in an attempt to move him closer to his destination. She heard him chuckle and felt a puff of breath. “Ani,” she whined. “Touch me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The first swipe of his hot tongue was a broad stroke that lapped up her juices, through her folds, and ended at her clit. Where he lingered. “Oh,” Padme moaned. “Oh, Ani. Good. That’s so good.”

Anakin didn't reply. He was otherwise occupied. Padme kept her head back, mesmerized by the night sky. This was his apology to her, she didn't have to supervise.

Anakin’s movements were slow but relentless as he ran his tongue over her clit with just the right amount of pressure. He had done this enough times to know where to be easy and how flex the muscle of his tongue against Padme’s most sensitive parts and when to dip his long fingers inside of her.

It felt incredible. She's nearly brought back to tears by how much she had missed this. Not just the act itself, but the way it made her feel. She felt cherished; her husband, hard at work, coaxing moans from deep inside of her. He rewarded her with groans of desire when she contracts around his deft fingers.

It was too short a time before Padme’s legs quake around his shoulders.

Anakin kept up his pace, encouraging her to ride her orgasm as far as she could, his free hand stroking her bare thigh.

He took her too far. He always does. Padme pulled on Anakin’s hair to get him to stop when the feel of his contact became too much for her swollen, oversensitive sex.

Anakin sat up, looking at her with hungry eyes and his lips glistening. Still, ever the gentleman, he took a moment to right her skirts before coming to kiss her. His lips were still slick and she can taste her own juices on them. It’s not an unpleasant taste, by her own estimation.

“Would you like to go to bed now?” Padme asked--offered--after she had kissed the taste of herself clean from his mouth.

“It won’t hurt the…” Anakin looked at her stomach, his face unreadable.

“No, Anakin,” she sighed, using his broad shoulders for support as she levered herself off the sofa. “The baby will be fine as long as I’m not on my stomach. We don’t have to,” she made herself say. She would not coerce her own husband into making love to her if he didn't want to. Although, it would hurt if the current shape of her body was the reason he refused. They could always do something else. Or go to sleep. Padme’s feelings would not be hurt if Anakin just wanted to rest.

“Oh I want to,” Anakin assured her, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Just have to figure out how will be best.”

“Of course,” Padme said, her pulse rising as she led him into the bedroom.

Once in their room Padme hastily removed the excess pillows from her bed. If Anakin thought the extra cushions were odd, he didn't comment on it.

Anakin turned away from her, taking off the belt around his tunic and setting it on a chair to one corner of her bedroom before stripping himself of the tunic itself and discarding it similarly.

Padme watched with interest. He had more muscle definition than he had before he left. It was lean, in places. More defined in others. All in all, he had grown into a very attractive frame. She could also tell, now that his long tunic was gone, how hard he'd gotten from his ministrations in the other room. From lapping at her until she shook

Anakin discarded his boots, sitting on the corner of the bed looking at her, amused. What did he have to be amused abou--oh. Padme was still fully dressed.

With as much dignity as she could muster she laid a steadying hand on her armoire and kicked off her shoes. She discarded her outer robes, letting them fall to the floor ( _they’re dirty anyway_ , she reminded herself so she didn't try to pick them off the floor and hang them properly). She took a moment to unpin her hair and set the hairpieces on her vanity. Her hair fell, loose around her shoulders; a disarray of tangled curls.

Anakin watched her all the while, with eager, hungry eyes.

Padme took a deep breath and started to undo the latches of her gown. Her fingers falter--she hesitated. Anakin noticed.

“Padme? Don’t you want to do this?”

“I do! I’m just,” Padme dropped her eyes. She was being foolish. They had already covered this. He knew she was pregnant. He knew her body had changed and was still changing. Why was it so difficult for her to accept?

She heard the bed creak and when she looked up Anakin was before her. He brought his hands up to cup her face. One hot and soft, one cool and hard.

“What is it, Padme?”

This close she could feel his erection poking her, insistent. But there was love and patience in his eyes.

“I,” Padme swallowed. “I’m shy,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. It would be different if he had been there to watch all of the minute changes of her expansion. But he was going to remember her one way and she was...not that, anymore.

Anakin used his thumb to stroke her cheek. “That’s alright. I’m shy too.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” Anakin rested his forehead against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off of his bare skin. “Do you want to do this tonight? We can take it in steps, if you’d rather.”

Padme shook her head. “I want to. I _need_ to.” She wanted so badly to have her husband back. But for her to have him, he had to have her too.

She felt Anakin nod his head against hers. So he did understand. At least a bit.

“Will you let me undress you?”

She considered it. Took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Anakin kissed her forehead. “Stop me,” he told her. “If you change your mind.”

Padme nodded.

“I love you,” he told her, earnestly. “Nothing is going to change that.”

“I love you too, Anakin.” He might drive her crazy sometimes and the argument they’d had earlier might not be anywhere close to over, but Padme did love Anakin. With everything in her, she loved him.

Anakin undid Padme’s dress, slowly, giving her ample chance to change her mind. All it managed to do was key her up. Every loosened clasp, every slip of fabric off of her skin, heightened her anticipation. Until, she was standing in front of her husband’s hungry gaze, with her clothes pooled around their feet; every fleshy, rounded, stretched inch of her.

Anakin was on her before she had a chance to allow herself to be too self-conscious, his mouth was hot and greedy on her own, his hands were running all over. Reacquainting himself to old favorite spots of her and adjusting to their differences.

He had taken off his leather glove and the feel of the cold metal against her bare skin was just as tantalizing as being touched by his bare skin.

He palmed over her breast and she hissed in pain, they were tender and over sensitive, but before she could explain herself, he had moved on and steered clear of that area. He seemed very enamored with her widened hips and the extra flesh at her ass. He caressed the stretched skin over her convex stomach, lovingly. When he had run his hands over every inch of her, he snaked his organic hand between her thighs and groaned with pleasure into her mouth to find her wet again.

Anakin walked them back to the bed and Padme climbed on. She was still a bit shy, unsure of the best way to go about this, but she was very willing to try. Anakin shucked his pants while she was considering the issue.

“No,” he laughed when he saw her on the bed. “Come here.” Padme blinked, confused, but compiled. She got off the bed and walked to Anakin who promptly turned her around and hugged her back to his chest.

“Anakin, how--”

She felt Anakin sit on the edge of the bed behind her, pulling her by her hips with him.

“Is this alright?” He asked, she felt the head of his cock at her entrance without breaching, just yet.

“Yes.”

Anakin tugged down on her hips and Padme sunk onto him, her body accepting the intrusion eagerly.

His long, lean body curved over hers, he wrapped his prosthetic arm around her ribcage, the cold metal soothing the underside of her sore breasts. His other hand gripped the underside of her thigh. He hauled her into him and up and --oh! He had to be using the Force to keep them steady because he had positioned her on the edge of the bed over him, with her legs tucked underneath her, on either side of his hips, and his legs over the edge of the bed.

She thought she was meant to use her legs as leverage to move herself on him but Anakin held her in place with his hard arms and perhaps a bit of the Force--she was close to the edge of the bed with nothing to hold onto besides Anakin, after all. Before she can manage to figure out how she was supposed to move with him holding her so closely, Anakin snapped his hips up into her.

Padme cried out.

“Good?” Anakin asked, letting go of her thigh long enough to move her hair to one side. He was already breathing heavy and Padme wasn’t sure how this could be fun for him when he had to hold her up bodily _and_ stay focused on the Force so she didn't fall into the floor _and_ do all the necessary movements. But he sounded excited.

“Yes,” she breathed. Exquisite, even. The angle was--Anakin thrust into her again and she--Yes. She was good. This was good.

Anakin moved steadily against her, kissing her exposed neck, holding her steady. He's going to leave marks on her throat. She would deal with it tomorrow.

_Everything is going to be fine._

She and Anakin wouldn’t fit so well together like this if they weren’t meant to find a way to be a family. Right? A real family. Padme and Anakin and the baby.

_Everything is going to be fine._

Now that that was resolved, perhaps Padme could start to feel like herself again. He had peeled away her layers and seen her. She wa exposed now, legs spread and dripping. He has her. He was filling her.

She and Anakin could put each other back together. One night at a time.

“Padme,” Anakin said, entreating as he moved continuously against her--into her.

Padme grunted to indicate that she was listening. His thrusts picked up speed, hitting a delicious spot in her inner walls over, and over and over again.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Tell me I’m the only one.”

“Anakin, you are my love,” Padme turned her face to his, catching his lips, awkwardly and off kilter.

When Anakin’s movements began to falter his flesh hand left her thigh to move between her legs, rubbing her clit, coaxing her.

It was too much. She was taken by another climax. Anakin gave a few more thrusts into her clinching sex before she felt him go taunt behind her, every muscle straining with his own release.

Both spent, Anakin drug her all the way onto the bed. She was leaking her own fluids and Anakin's spend. She needed to go clean up. Her eyelids were so heavy.

“I love you, Padme,” he told her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Only ever you.”

“And the baby,” Padme murmured. She languid and lazy now, letting Anakin pull the bedclothes over the both of them with the Force (the showoff!).

“My whole universe,” Anakin agreed.

She's pleased to hear it.

_Everything is going to be fine._

Sleep took her shortly thereafter.

* * *

Anakin was trapped; his body pressed onto a hard surface at his back by an incredible weight. He tried to move but it felt as though his arms and legs stretched into nothingness. It’s a relief, mostly. The rest of his body was in agony; raw with pain all over.

He opened his eyes, needing to get his bearings. He needed to know where he was and how he’s hurt and what had trapping him, if he ever planned on getting out of this situation. His view was red and computerized. There was something on his face. He could turn his head, at least. He looked around. He was in some sort of medical facility and he has been strapped to a surgery table.

It was disorienting, the pain and the weight and the numbness. He's confused, he couldn't remember how he got there. Hadn't he just been with Padme?

He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself enough to figure a way out of this mess.

He inhaled and exhaled, his breath filtering through whatever was on his face with an audible and familiar: _kish_ _kosh_.

Where did he know that sound from? Why did it send him into a panic after he’d managed to keep himself mostly calm.

As he listened to himself breath the table tilts, slowly putting him on his feet.

“Lord Vader,” a voice snarled from beside him. “Can you hear me?”

Anakin jolted. Yes! That was why the breathing sounded familiar. It was the sign of life in that monster Rey had shown him. That future Sith. Darth Vader.

“Yes, Master.” Anakin said, without deciding to. But it wasn’t Anakin’s voice. It was deep and mechanized.

It was like Anakin was looking out of the Sith’s eyes. The thought brought him momentary comfort. This was some sort of dream or vision. It felt real, but It wasn’t. It would pass.

He felt a presence in the Force, daunting and dark and strangely familiar. He turned his head to look. The person beside him was wearing a deep hood and Anakin couldn't make out enough of his features to identify him. All he could see of the person’s face was that he was deformed. His skin twisted into an odious approximation of a face.

“Where is Padme?” The future Sith asked.

Anakin’s heart seized. Why would he need to know where Anakin’s wife was?

“Is she safe? Is she alright?”

What?

“It seems,” the hooded figure said, regretfully. “In your anger, you killed her.”

The words hurt more than any physical pain he was feeling. They broke something deep inside himself.

“I? I couldn’t have,” Anakin cried or the Sith cried. Anakin wasn’t sure what the distinction was at the moment. The news of Padme’s death tearing through him; tearing him apart. “She was alive. I felt it!”

Padme couldn't be--He couldn’t have kill--NO! It was this Sith!

THE SITH KILLED PADME!!!!!

The Force comes to him in his anger and grief. He accepts its paltry comfort and used it to lash out. He shouldn’t be here! This place shouldn’t exist! He shouldn’t exist!

Distantly he could hear the hisses and groans of medical equipment being wrenched and twisted with the Force of his grief. It didn't matter to him. He would destroy everything in this putrid universe if he had to. His life without Padme was meaningless. Life while Padme was dead and gone was obscene!!

ALL LIFE WITHOUT PADME WAS AN AFFRONT!!

He clambered off the table, breaking his restraints.

“NOOOO!”

Anakin came awake suddenly, transferring from dream to reality so quickly that, for a terrifying moment, his body doesn't get the message. It doesn't respond, he's too heavy to move and he’s so sure, for a moment, that he’s still trapped in the suit, despite the fact that he could see Padme’s bedroom around him.  

When had control over his body again he threw himself off the bed, with a cry.

He was drenched in sweat and shaking. That vision was nothing like his usual nightmares. It was so clear--so vivid--so real. Anakin was dry heaving with sobs and revulsion. He’s going to be sick.

He stumbled into the 'fresher so he didn't vomit on Padme’s bedroom floor-- _their_ bedroom floor, this was his home too. Still, he didn't want to make his issues Padme’s problem, even in the form of a pile of sick on the floor. He shouldn’t worry her. She was doing so much. She’s--

“Anakin?”

She’s standing in the doorway to the 'fresher, wearing nothing but a light bathrobe and concern.

Concern because he was crouched, naked and sobbing, in the bathroom, in front of a toilet filled with vomit. The room was starting to smell sour with bile. Anakin flushed his sick away, taking care of that problem. See Padme? He didn't just make problems. He can take care of them too.

Yeah, so much for not worrying Padme.

“I--I had a nightmare,” he told her, his voice thin despite himself. He must look terrible.

She came to him, hands reaching, soothing, in his hair and on his neck and kneading his shoulders, which were tense. He’s still shaking. Her hands felt good on him. She’s already worried and he needed the comfort, so he wraps his arms around her waist, bringing her close enough to bury his face in her stomach, like a child.

Padme cooed nonsense while she pets him--“Everything is going to be alright, Anakin” and “They are just dreams” and “I’m here”--Anakin allowed himself to be comforted this time as he wet her robe with tears.

He tried to make sense of that nightmare. That vision? It was so much more detailed than his dreams of Padme dying in childbirth. It was like he was there. Inside the head of that monster. Inside the suit….he needed to talk to Rey. He needed to know more about Darth Vader and his obsession with Padme. Maybe then he can figure out why Ben and that assassin had targeted her. Perhaps then he could keep her safe.

He'd go to the Temple tomorrow, he resolved. He would ask Rey to tell him about the future--he’ll beg her, if he has to.

For now, Anakin took the comfort his family offered him: Padme with her soft voice and quiet breath and mollifying touch. And their baby, blessing him with conciliatory kicks to his head.


	14. felt like god's anointed when you didn’t push me away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Rey thinks of her vision of Ben from TLJ, and because it's never explicitly said what that vision entailed I am taking some liberties. Otherwise, have some fluff before we get into a few plot heavy chapters. 
> 
> Chapter title taken from 'Age of Kings' by The Mountain Goats.

Once back at the Temple Ben went to his room. It was late. Much later than he usually arrived back from the Senate Dome. Any chance of seeing Rey tonight were shot. Perhaps he could catch her early in the morning and explain.

Or so he intended. However, Ben keyed in the access code to his room and—there she is, sitting cross legged on his futon watching a projection emitted from a holocron. She looked up as the door opened.

“—this technique requires many years of introspection to master—” The Jedi on the holocron was saying, Ben didn't recognize her.

Rey switched it off.

“You missed dinner,” she said.

“There was an incident. I got held up.” Ben finally shook off his surprise and entered the room. It was his room, after all. The door slid shut behind him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Rey was saying. “I forced the panel on the door to let me in.”

“I don’t mind.” Ben sat in front of her and nodded to the holocron. “What’s on the holocron?”

Rey blinked, surprised. “You’ve seen them before?”

“Luke had a few.”

“Humph,” Rey crossed her arms. “He could have shown them to me.”

They likely didn’t survive the fire Ben set, but he doesn't say that.

“Unless they didn’t survive the destruction of his temple,” Rey said, causing Ben to confusedly check that the bond was closed. It was. “Anyway,” Rey continued, oblivious to Ben’s bemusement. “Obi-Wan is still a bit put out that I learned your method so fast. He wants me to keep an open mind about it.”

“So he’s making you watch holocrons on the Jedi’s ‘tried and true’ method?”

“He _asked_ me,” Rey corrected him. “I thought I may as well while I waited on you. So what happened?”

“Palpatine hired a bounty hunter to kill Padme.”

“What?” Rey surged toward him, out of her crossed legged position until she was on her hands and knees. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine.” Ben laid a placating hand on her shoulder and gently guided her back until she was sitting on her legs. “Shaken up, perhaps. Bail Organa was there, as well. He’s fine. I’m fine,” he supplied when she opened her mouth. She shut it, pouting. “Everyone is fine—well, no. The bounty hunter is probably traumatized. He’s covered in light lacerations—”

“Ben that’s more than an _‘incident_.’”

“—concussion, broken nose. His esophagus _definitely_ needs tending to.”

“What did you do to him?”

“I caught him,” Ben said plainly. “Although, he had to go through some pretty thick glass to get from where he was positioned to me.”

Rey cracked a wry smile, amused despite herself. “Bet he wasn’t expecting that.”

“Not really.” It’s doubtful Palpatine told the mercenary what he was up against. If Palpatine even really knew, that was. Ben had to assume he did, since Anakin had been running his mouth about Ben to Palpatine. Ben was angered anew at the reminder.

“How do you know it was Palpatine?” Rey asked.

“I looked in his mind.” Rey’s face fell for some reason.

“Oh. I’m not the only one who needed shields, it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Listen, I should probably ask Obi-Wan to postpone our trip. In light of this.”

Her trip? Oh, right: Ilum.

“When are you supposed to leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, much to Ben’s surprise. “Obi-Wan wants to get it over with.”

So soon? But— “No, this is good,” Ben forced himself to think practically. Getting emotional wouldn't keep Rey safe. “Palpatine likely won’t act again so soon. He’ll come for the Jedi in the Temple eventually. You’ll need a weapon.”

“Are you sure? What if you need me here?”

He would definitely need her here. But when have Ben’s needs meant anything in the grand scheme of things?

“It’s your decision,” he told her. “I trust your instincts.”

Rey deliberated. “I’ll only be gone a few days. One week, at most.”

Good. She deserved her own lightsaber. One that didn't carry so much weight. But that didn't mean he wanted to see her gone for a long period of time.

“I think that’s a good decision,” Ben said, because she still looked like she was wavering. But the sooner they got this over with the better.

Ben wanted to ask her to open the bond back up. Just so he could know she was safe while they were apart. But they’ve been apart before, and she’s been fine. Capable, even. He had to trust her. She could take care of herself. Rey was anything but helpless. She didn’t need his protection.

But still, Ben could hope.

“I’m going to leave the bond open on my end while you’re gone,” he told her, decidedly. He didn't think she would argue with that. She had her own shields now, after all. “That way if you need me you can reach me—”

“What if you need me?”

Of course he needed her. That wasn't the issue. She was the one going into a war-torn galaxy. He wished he could go with her and Obi-Wan, but that would leave Padme vulnerable. She had Anakin but…well, that had gone so well the first time around.

“I’m not anticipating any issues, but…If Palpatine moves in earnest every Force sensitive in the galaxy will feel it.”

Rey nodded. “Any other advice for me?”

Ben considered her question, trying to remember anything he’d been told about the Clone Wars.

“Try not to get too close to any of the clone troopers,” he said at length. “They are how Palpatine kills most of the Jedi.”

“They side with Palpatine?”

Ben shook his head. “They didn’t have a choice. They have a kill switch of some sort. Palpatine gives them a signal and they…do what they were designed to do.”

“Alright,” Rey nodsded absorbing this. “Be quick. No clones. Got it. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, just…come back in one piece. The galaxy will be different from the one you remember; so stay on guard.”

“I think I can handle myself. Besides, I’ll have Obi-Wan.”

“I know you can. You’ll keep Obi-Wan safe too.”

“Or I’ll wring his neck.”

“Or that,” Ben shrugged. “I trust your instincts.”

Rey smiled, amused. “I should probably go,” she said, sobering quickly. “Let you sleep. It sounds like you’ve had a long day.” Rey started to stand.

Under the threat of her immediate departure, Ben panicked. He might have to go a week without seeing her and he has gotten used to knowing that she’s around. He’s gotten used to seeing her daily, even. And before that—when they were seperated by wounded pride and fallacy and light years—at least the bond was open and he’d catch glimpses of her periodically; incongruous with his surroundings. The ghost of everything he could have had if he’d just manage _to do better._

Ben caught her wrist before she got far.

“Or you could stay.”

To Ben’s delight, and utter fascination, Rey relented immediately.

“I did put in a lot of effort to get in the room,” she said sitting down again. She looked at him expectantly when she’s settled and Ben’s mind blanked.

What was he supposed to do now?

* * *

Ben clearly hadn't thought this through. That much was obvious from how he just sort of stared at her when she sat back down. It wasn't not awkward so much as anticipatory. There were so many possibilities. Too many.

Ben hadn't thought this through. So what? That’s fine. Rey hadn't either. He asked her to stay and she wanted to stay. It was a start.

What else did she want from this night?

She wanted to see his bare chest again.

But that could wait.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Rey asked.

“Yes,” Ben answered, certain. “Which part are you referring to, though?”

Rey wanted to be amused by his quick answer, but this was important to her. “You said I was everything,” she reminded him.

“I meant that.”

“ _What_ did you mean by it?”

Ben regarded her for a moment. Hesitatingly? Shyly? Incredulously? She wasn't sure what the emotion behind his expression was.

Finally, he said: “You know.”

She did. Didn’t she? It made her feel...a lot. Happy and vulnerable. Bold and shy, all at once. She should be careful, still. She didn't want to be hurt again.

But, she wanted to be bold, again. She missed that certainty.

She was leaving tomorrow. Once gone from the Temple she’d have time and space to examine her relationship with Ben Solo. In depth, if she wanted to. She’d be able to decide once and for all what it is she wanted from him, long term.

Or, no. That wasn't not true. She _knew_ what she wanted from him. The Force had shown her his future. A possible future, rather—in a hut, in the rain, in a moment of weakness. In that possibility, his future was her future.

She had wanted that future for herself. She still did. At first, her want had caused her to misinterpreted it; to jump without thought. She had ignored the fact that the version of him in her vision was not the version of him she was going to on the  _Supremacy_. Time would change him and he would have to want to change himself. She hadn’t wanted to wait, then. That’s why she’d been hurt.

Was he close enough, now? To that possible future version of Ben Solo that the Force had teased her with? Was that vision even still viable?

She was still unsure. Despite her emotions toward him and her attraction to him.

But she was leaving tomorrow and tonight she really wanted to get that tunic off.

“We could pick up where we left off,” she offered. Looking up at him, watching his reaction carefully. Ben was watching her just as steadily. His gaze direct, honest. “I don’t think we’ll be interrupted here.”

“I don’t have that much faith in anyone in this temple,” Ben smirked, reaching for her hand, drawing her toward him. Rey went.

They were very new to this. That much was obvious.

On Jakku, romances were distractions. And dangerous ones at that. To let someone so close? To chance disaster? She wasn’t foolish enough to try, even if she’d wanted to. And she hadn’t met anyone on Jakku who she’d want to romance, anyway.

She didn’t know Ben’s experience, other than: not much. She reckoned that having someone like Snoke around—and presumably in Ben’s head often—would turn anyone’s stomach at the prospect of such dalliances.

They kissed for a short time, then reassessed, readjusted. Kissed some more.

The positioning was wrong, she was sure of that, but not sure _how_ it was wrong. He was still sitting cross legged on the pallet, and she was crouched, on her knees, sort of leaning into him. It made her a bit taller than him, which was fine, which worked; but soon her legs started to fall asleep and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. So far they’d made a thorough map of his broad shoulders and biceps, of the hard muscle she could feel underneath his tunic.

Ben’s hands stayed in similar, safe locations: her shoulders and her back.

When, eventually, she got wobbly on her mostly numb legs, Ben placed a large hand on her waist to balance her and she actually gasped at the contact.

Ben caught the reaction and tried to remove his hand. She clasped hers over his before he could; keeping his hand in place. Then she ran her hand up his arm, on the inside of his tunic sleeves until he shivered.

They were both very unused to being touched so gently. To wanting to touch someone gently. It was all a bit overwhelming and Rey was ready to break apart and ask to be let off her legs, which were pins and needles underneath her.

Then Ben’s mouth was on her neck and—oh, she wouldn’t move for the whole universe.

“That feels really good,” she said, in case the hitch in her breath wasn’t obvious. She would voice this; let him know with her words, so that maybe he’d do it again someday. Someday when they were both more sure. Of each other and of their own movements.

Emboldened by her admission, Ben paid special attention to her throat. Rey lifted her chin, giving his lips all the room to roam that she can. In time his careful kisses turn into soft suckling of her taunt skin and little licks of his tongue to soothe. Rey is unable stifle the sounds that escape her mouth, which only prove to drive Ben on.

They’re both less shy now, Rey had her hands bunched into the tunic on his shoulders, leaning her weight into him. Ben’s hands were  still on her waist but her own tunic had bunched up, somehow. His hands were hot on her flesh.

She was on the edge of good sense. She could  feel it in the way heat pooled low in her belly.

She felt one of Ben’s hands slide down, from her waist to her hip and around to her backside, his large palm cupping her flesh firmly. It felt—It felt—

There was a scrape of teeth on her throat, quick as a flash.

Rey shoved Ben, hard.

He landed on his back with a _thud_ ; blinking up at her in surprise. He was flushed and his pupils were blown so wide that the brown of his eyes were barely visible. His tunic was ruched up onto his stomach, showing a bit of pale skin and a trail of dark hair; the pants the Jedi supplied him weren’t nearly as high waisted as those he wore at home. They were also…tented, slightly.

Rey averted her eyes quickly, her already hot face, heating anew. She knew what that was about. It was just new in the sense that his arousal was about her. She’d be better prepared to handle the implications of that in the future.

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically. Did he know what he was apologizing for?

He was splayed and ridiculously wide, there, below her on the floor. And he looked afraid? Because he thought he’d gone too far again, probably.

“It’s alright,” Rey said, trying to find the words to explain her reaction. How to reassure him when she was still twitchy with want?

Slowly, Rey crawled up his invitingly large body—being mindful of the still rigid part of him. Would her weight crush it? Hurt him? She wasn’t sure of the mechanics of that anatomy yet. She maintained eye contact throughout her journey.

Now he was confused. He looked so tired. It is late…and it must have been a long day for him. The dark circles that perpetually haunted his eyes had disappeared in the days they had spent in this time. She hadn’t noticed until right then, as she was faced with him with dark circles under his eyes again.

She lay fully on top of him, giving her legs a rest. She put her head on his chest to listen to his heart.

“I didn’t mean to push you like that,” she admitted. “I liked it, I did. I think I got overwhelmed.”

She could feel Ben swallow then, slowly he brought his arms around her, encasing her to him.

“Good overwhelmed or bad overwhelmed?”

“Good overwhelmed. Next time I’ll ask you to stop. With my words.”

“Next time?”

“Can I sleep here?” She asked on impulse, but she found, as the words left her mouth, that she very much wanted him to say yes.

“Of course.”

Ben stroked her back until she could no longer feel his rigidity against her hip. After a time, she felt him tug on her hair.

“Can I take this out?”

Rey nodded and she felt him tug her hair until it was falling around her face, he ran his fingers through it carefully, working out the tangles.

“It’s longer,” he commented.

“Too long.”

“If you say so.”

Ben used the Force to turn off the overhead light as he tipped them both over, on their sides. Rey tried to nuzzle into his chest more but he sat up, tugging on his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

“It’s your shirt,” she said, so that she didn't say ‘please do.’

Ben removed his shirt and boots and Rey took the time to take off her own footwear and—after a quick glance at Ben—her own tunic. She was wearing an undergarment beneath so that she wasn't completely bare chested, unlike him. Still, it really only covered her chest and she wanted to feel his skin on hers; feel connected, even if they were only sleeping.

If Ben thought her taking off her top was odd he didn't comment, he did watch her, though. His gaze burning.

He laid on his side, arm outstretched for her head. She turned her back to him and lay that way. He good-naturedly blew her loose hair out of his face. She pulled a loose blanket over them, not that they’d need it. Ben was a furnace.

They lay, quietly for a while, their pulses and their breath evening out.

“You told me I was good,” Rey murmured, her eyes were heavy, she  was warm and comfortable. Safe in Ben’s arms.

Ben hummed, close to sleep.

“You’re good too, Ben.”

“I’m not,” he argued, mumbling into her hair. His fingers stroking her scar. The one she got on the  _Supremacy_. Perhaps this was the first time he’d really seen it? The Jedi robes were longer sleeved than what she normally wore.

“Not all the time,” Rey relented. “No one is good all the time. You can be good where it counts.”

Ben drew her closer to him, large hand over her bare belly. He was silent for so long that Rey thought he had fallen asleep.

Then: “I made you cry.” It was whispered into her hair. A reminder, a confession, an apology, of sorts, for his behavior in the throne room.

That _had_ been a bit of a debaticle.

But the fault wasn’t his alone. Rey had seen his future and it was her future and she had been _so sure_. She’d been wrong. Or premature, at the very least.

She still wanted the future she’d seen. She wanted it very much.

“‘S alright,” Rey soothed sleepily. “I cry fairly easily.”

Ben huffed, his breath hot on the back of her neck. “Me too.”

Rey hummed, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her amusement. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ll miss you, while you’re gone,” his hand flexed against her skin, making her shiver.

Rey turned to face him. She couldn't make his face out in the dark, but she got the feeling that his eyes were open, watching for her reaction.

What a feeling! To be missed.

Rey planted a kiss where she assumed his lips were (she ended up with more of his chin than she’d intended but that just made him laugh softly).

“I’ll miss you too,” she said.

They calmed down after that. For the first time in her life Rey knew what it was to sleep, vulnerably and securely with someone she trusted.

* * *

Ben was a light sleeper. He thought he’d always been a light sleeper, but it was hard to know when he had spent most of his life avoiding going to sleep—passively or actively. He’d had nightmares as a child and after the incident with Luke, scheduled unconsciousness always gave him anxiety.

He slept better in the Jedi Temple. Despite all evidence to the contrary. He had no enemies here—none that wanted him dead, at least.

With Rey by his side he slept like the dead. Waking was a resurrection.

Rey was moving, shimming out of his arms and then casting around in the weak light coming in through the window for her shirt or hair ties or boots. Ben checked the chrono, it was early. Too early.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked, his voice coming out quietly on instinct, because of the early hour.

Rey turned to look at him at the sound of his voice. “I told Obi-Wan I’d meet him in the hanger at dawn.”

She didn’t seem phased by the early hour after their late night and Ben was reminded of how much younger she was than him. He used to tease his father for being a decade older than Leia. Yet, here he was. Doing the same thing.

He was a hypocrite.

Worse than because he—

Ben sat up and scrubbed his face as though he could scrub the memory out of his head. He would not go there. He was not starting his day there. In that place. On that bridge…

“I’ll see you off.”

“You don’t have to.” She said this but he could see that the offer pleased her. Leaving could be difficult for her. He wanted to make it easier, if only because it was necessary. If only because the sooner she left the quicker she’d return.

Ben worked the stiffness out of his neck. “I was going to speak to Yoda before I go to the Senate Dome, anyway. May as well get it over with.”

“About what?”

“When Palpatine makes his move I’d like if the Jedi were ready.” And not holding their heads under the sand, so to speak. “I’m hoping I can make him see reason after last night’s attack.”

“Or wear him down.”

“Or that. More than likely that.”

“Alright, if you want to see me off…” She looked around, her expression uncertain.

“I’m going to run up to my room,” she finally said, standing up. “Gather my things. I’ll meet you back here when I’m finished and we can walk together?”

It sounded like a question. It shouldn’t have been. It was a perfectly serviceable plan. Was she having second thoughts about this excursion?

“That sounds good.”

Rey nodded, picked up her boots without bothering to put them on, and left the room.

While Rey was gone Ben performed his ablutions for the day. Quickly, since he didn’t know how much time she’d take. He managed to be presentable in time for her return.

When Ben exited his room Rey was there, with fresh robes on and her hair re-tied and a line of hickeys running up her neck.

Ben was assaulted by a memory of his mother fussing at his father for giving her ‘love bites.’ Of Han catching his eye as a young Ben lingered outside of their bedroom. Leia’s back to him, she was busy trying to cover the splotches on her neck with makeup. Han winked at Ben; satisfied and smarmy. Ben told him he was disgusting.

Oh.

Han Solo was spinning in his non-existent grave.

“Uh, you have—” Ben gestured to her neck. “Sorry.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw them.”

She didn’t seem angry so Ben just nodded. If she wasn’t going to fuss at him he wasn’t going to push her. He did offer to carry her makeshift sack—which he noticed, when she handed it over with a shrug, was made from a scavenged Jedi robe.

She still had that uncertain look in her eyes. It was worrying enough that Ben asked: “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” And then nearly kicked himself. Just because he was in mind of Han Solo today didn’t mean that he had to start speaking like him too.

Rey looked up at him, unconcerned with his wording, her expression heavy. She clearly had more on her mind than an accidental pet name.

“I’m not leaving for good. You know that, right? I’m not—I’ll come back. I won’t leave you with these people for long.”

Here Ben had thought she would have a hard time leaving because it might put her in the place of her own parents, and she was worried about him. It was a refreshing reminder that she didn’t think like he did. Similar but different.

She didn’t say the word ‘abandonment’ but it hung in the air between them.

On impulse (and because he was already channeling the spirit of his dead father that morning) Ben leaned forward and planted a kiss on Rey’s forehead.

“I know you wouldn’t do that.” Rey seemed to soak in his words, her eyes closing. “However, if you feel the need to remind me, I’ll have my end of the bond open.”

Rey opened her eyes, drowning him in warm hazel. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And because someone never did for him, Ben offered her an out. “You don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.”

Rey took a deep breath, steadying her resolve. “I want my own lightsaber.”

Ben had no doubt that a lightsaber crafted by Rey’s own hand would be glorious.

He carried her luggage in one hand and Rey wordlessly reached for the other, much to his delight, and they walked hand-in-hand to the hangar.

* * *

Obi-Wan was busy loading supplies onto the ship that the quartermaster had assigned him for this ‘mission’—after making absolutely certain that Anakin would not be joining Obi-Wan, as the harried quartermaster wanted to get the vessel back in one piece—when he spotted Rey walking into the hangar with Ben. Dragging him along by the—

Oh. No. They were holding hands…Obi-Wan was going to pretend he hadn't seen that.

Rey did not take reminders against attachment well. He refused to start their journey together with a lecture on just that very subject.

If, after a brief respite from Ben Solo, she _still_ didn't understand the necessity of the Jedi’s aversion to attachment then Master Yoda could explain it to her. Obi-Wan did not sign-up to take another Padawan after Anakin and he was not starting with Rey.

Obi-Wan ducked into the ship, intending to give them a moment to make their—hopefully subtle—goodbyes.

After a few moments Rey climbed up the gangplank, with what looked like a bundle of laundry in her arms.

“Ready to go?” Obi-Wan asked in the most cheerful voice he could manage under the circumstances.

“Let’s do this.” Rey gave him a bright smile that nearly struck him dumb. He wasn't sure if he’d seen her smile before now. Never so joyously, at least.

Rey moved deeper into the ship, oblivious to Obi-Wan’s revelation. Shaking the notion out of his head, Obi-Wan was about to close the gangplank when he saw Ben at the end of the ramp.

“Safe travels, Kenobi.” Ben says, his voice carrying easily up into the said. “May the force be with you.”

That was…unexpectedly cordial. Obi-Wan smiled and inclined his head in thanks, pressing the control button to close the ramp.

“Don’t worry,” Ben continued as the gangplank began to ascend. “I’ll keep an eye on Anakin while you’re gone.”

The gangplank shut, sealing the ship closed for the trip.

Well…that was ominous. Was that a threat? Bring Rey back in one piece or Anakin gets it? If so, it was entirely unnecessary. They were going to Ilum, not Mandalore. They’d be far away from any battles.

Besides, Rey’s safety in the caves of Ilum would be up to her, not Obi-Wan.

With a scoff Obi-Wan turned into the ship. It was best to put Ben Solo out of his mind. He’d show Rey the thermal wear he had commissioned her for the arctic planet and then they could be on their way.

He found Rey in the cargo hold, taking inventory of the food they had stocked. She appeared very intent on her task as she didn’t notice him enter the room.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, pointedly, and Rey looked up at the noise. Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed in concern.

The lighting was atrocious but it appeared she had some sort of rash on her neck. Perhaps he should allow her to have a healer take a look at the affected area before they departed the Temple; get some kind of ointment or—No.

Those spots weren’t an indication of _that_ _kind_ of irritated skin. Obi-Wan had been very familiar with spots like those, once upon a time.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose while Rey gave him a curious look.

He would ignore this. Just like the hand-holding, he would say nothing. But he would start by showing her the scarves.


	15. spat out my mourning prayers; desperate pleas and vicious lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from the song "High Doses #2" by The Mountain Goats.

Ben noticed a marked contrast to how the Jedi Council receive him. His first time in the Council Chamber they had regarded him with skepticism. Now? There was wariness and hostility.

Admittedly, the hostility was mostly because he’d barged into a Council meeting that was already in progress. Was it his fault that they failed to invite him? They were discussing the shooting at the Senate, after all, and he was a witness.

But no, he hadn’t been called upon to give a briefing, that role had fallen to Windu, whose knowledge was secondhand…But that wasn’t why Ben was there.

There were shouts of outrage from holographic Jedi Masters—who weren’t actually there and didn’t know Ben—as he barged into the room.

Yoda simply frowned at him and waved off the Sentinels who followed Ben with harried intent. Windu stopped in his report to also frown at Ben but then told him to ‘take a seat’ and gestured to Kenobi’s empty chair. Ben was tempted to sit on a holo-master, since it was also an empty chair, but…

“I’m in a hurry,” Ben informed Windu.

There were murmurs of indignation at his rudeness but Windu considered him. For a moment Ben was afraid Windu would send him away, he had not made a good impression on the man—or on any of the Jedi in this room, for that matter. If it came to that Ben would fight. He was here to speak and be heard.

“Then say your peace,” Windu said, unexpectedly. “So our meeting can commence.”

Ben took a deep breath and started with the obvious. “The Sith is responsible for last night’s attack on Amidala.”

“Yes,” A Jedi holo-master said, wearily. "Master Windu has informed us." The speaker was a Human woman with jewels embedded into her forehead. Ben thought she had been physically present during his first meeting with the Council but he couldn’t be sure. He wished they had taken the time to make introductions. (Or wore name tags. Ben’s complicated relationship with the First Order aside, at least everyone had their name clearly printed on their uniforms.)

“The situation is dire,” said the Cerean holo-master. 

“It’s been dire,” the Togruta said rolling her eyes.

“The fact that the Sith feels comfortable enough to move, even in an indirect capacity does not bode well,” said the Kel Dor, his half mask causing his voice to be deep and distorted.

They would talk themselves in circles all day, of this, Ben was absolutely certain. Ben was no orator, he couldn’t sway opinions the way his mother had been able to—the way Padme could—but he’d have to give it a try. If he let them continue on their own then they would get nowhere.

“Masters, please,” Ben raised his hands in an entreating way he’d seen his mother do a million times, palms out, expression open. Silence fell as all eyes turned to him. He could do this; he could be contrite and supplicant—even to beings who represented an Order he detested. He would have to.

“I know this is your war,” he continued. “I know that my role here borders somewhere between accidental and non existent. I know that the future I am from only represents one single possibility from where you all sit right now. I’d like for you to be fully aware that it represents the _worst_ possibility.”

Ben took a moment to look around the room, meeting the eyes of several Jedi Masters.

“When I’m from governing bodies fight for dominance over a galaxy that has been worn down by constant war; it is a weary galaxy. A galaxy who does not care if it’s ruled by democracy or dictatorship so long as the war isn’t on their planet, in their city, taking their loved ones. They are wrong to look the other way because when I’m from war has taken billions of lives, razed entire cities, consumed whole planets.”

Ben paused here and is gratified by the disquieted murmurs around him.

“It starts _here_ ,” he continued, pointing at the floor below his feet. “In this city, on this planet. It can be avoided, by the actions of the people in this room. Masters the Sith is Pa—”

Suddenly the holo-masters around him winked out of existence. Leaving a room of empty seats and the hum of the holo-projector powering down.

Ben turned, stunned and confused, to Windu—whose face was oddly blank as he looked to Yoda by the holo-projector.

“Told you not to worry, I did,” Yoda said.

“It’s past time for that attitude,” he said through gritted teeth. “We need to work together. You need to listen to me. I can tell yo—”

“Put my trust in the Force, I have,’ Yoda said, placidly. The interruption only proves to make Ben angrier. He’s fuming now, ready to lash out. He clenched his fists. He couldn't chance an outburst.

“The Force told you not to listen?” He asked, rhetorically. Unable to keep the acid from his voice. It was beyond his control. “It's told you to sit idly by until the Sith reveals himself? To catastrophic effect for this Order.”

Windu, who had remained oddly still and emotionless during Ben’s argument with Yoda turned to him now. “The Jedi will act when we can maintain balance,” he said by rote. It was a phrase that Ben had heard many times in his past. He’d usually roll his eyes at Luke when he’d say it in his presence. Now it set his teeth on edge.

“Maintain it?” Ben hissed in disbelief. “Can you _feel_ the Force, Windu? _It isn’t balanced now!_ ”

“Clouded by fear, are you,” Yoda said as Windu looks away from Ben—he could only assume Windu’s reaction, or lack thereof, was disgust for Ben’s show of emotion.

“Fear of losing Rey to us,” Yoda continued before Ben could say anything. The words ran through Ben like blaster fire. “Fear of failing your grandmother. Of her death.”

Windu looked between Yoda and Ben in confusion but Yoda went on. “Fear of the past. Fear of the future. The Jedi are _not_ _afraid_.”

Ben was shaking with outrage. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. Yes, he was afraid. He’s afraid all the time. Was he so transparent? Still?

But there’s something else, underneath the anger and hurt of Yoda’s words—of his flippant disregard for the danger they were all in. Underneath the bitter disappointment that Ben, perhaps, thought that the Jedi Council would listen to him after he saved a life on their watch. After he’d spent days doing everything they had asked him to do, when he could have been spending time with Rey. Underneath the acceptance that he was very used to not being trusted, wasn’t he? Underneath the wish that Rey were there with him, because she is light and truth and they would have to listen to her, wouldn't they?

Underneath all of that there was clarity. A certainty that bloomed as Yoda proclaimed the Jedi to be fearless. The certainty that such assertions were temporary. It was almost like an echo.

“You will be,” Ben told the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

Something must have gotten through to Yoda in the Force because Ben watched as his bushy brows unfurled at the words, his face clearing in surprise. 

“You will be.”

* * *

Anakin hadn’t been able to come to the Temple first thing in the morning like he’d planned. Padme was being difficult. His wife had insisted on going to the Senate Dome. So he’d had to argue with her about that first.

Honestly, pregnancy had made her so argumentative. Anakin was just trying to keep her safe but she insisted. She had work to do that required her to be at the Loyalist Committee's headquarters, as she’d left her datapad there the following night.

Eventually Anakin relented, if only so she could retrieve the datapad and come back to the apartment to work.

Padme had put her foot down. She’d never cowered after an assassination attempt and she would not start now. The two of them passed the ride from her apartment to the Senate Dome in stormy silence.

Anakin had only felt better about letting her work in the office when he’d seen the security changes that had been made overnight.

As he was parking the speeder he had noticed an increase in patrol of the Coruscant Security Force around the perimeter of the Senate Dome. As well as, heavier surveillance in the form of Security Droids that were constantly recording as they traveled through the hallways.

What really eased Anakin’s fraught nerves was the fact that Ben Solo was not in the Loyalist Committee’s offices. Instead, there were two clones. New issues, to be sure, they had yet to even adorn their armor. They were likely greener than grass, but allies, nonetheless.

All in all, Anakin approved of the changes. Still, he wasn’t going to leave the lives of Padme and their child to the hands of rookies he didn’t even know, allies or otherwise. Therefore, as soon as Padme started her work he stepped to a secluded corner and commed Obi-Wan, with the intent to have him ask Rey to come to the Senate Dome. He could keep an eye on Padme and get answers from Rey.

There was no answer.

Anakin checked the chrono, Obi-Wan should be awake by now. He tried to get through a few more times to no avail.

Unwilling to give up, he sent one of the clones to the temple to either find Rey and bring her to the Senate Dome or find Master Kenobi and have him send Rey. The clone left, eager to do anything but stand on guard duty and Anakin took the post he left behind.

Padme didn’t like it, he was sure from the looks she sent him periodically. It was indiscreet, his concern for her safety, but necessary. Discretion had a time and a place and when Padme’s life was in danger, there was no room for it.

A while after the clone left Anakin overheard Padme ask Organa about Ben’s absence. Organa just shrugged but Anakin had to fight to keep from inserting himself into Padme’s conversation. She shouldn’t need Ben. Anakin was there.

When the clone came back empty handed Anakin’s frustration with the morning doubled. The clone claimed he couldn’t locate either Master Kenobi or anyone named Rey.

So much for that. Honestly, if he wanted anything done he needed to do it himself.

“Stay here,” he told the clones, testily. “I’ll be back shortly.”

The clones each answered him with a respectful: “Yes sir!”

He tried to catch Padme’s eye before he left but she was absorbed in a conversation with her colleagues. He’d be back before she even noticed he was gone. And it was only late morning, too early for a lunch break. If Anakin hurried he could be back before Ben made an appearance.

Resolved, Anakin ducked out of the room and promptly collided with Ben Solo.

“Ugh,” Anakin growled, straightening his robes. “What are you doing here?”

Ben glowered at him. “If you have an issue with me, Skywalker, take it up with the Council,” Ben said with more bite than Anakin thought was strictly necessary. “Provided they can hear you with their heads so far up their—”

“Ben!” Bail Organa was suddenly there, greeting Ben with relief and clapping him on the shoulder. “We were getting worried.”

To Anakin’s surprise Ben appeared flustered by Organa’s concern.

“Apologies,” Ben said, ducking his head. “I had a meeting with the Jedi Council that took longer than necessary.”

Organa chuckled. “Meetings have a way of always being longer than necessary. I hope it was productive, at least.”

“Not in the slightest,” Ben said with a scowl.

“So we don’t have you to thank for the upgraded security?” Organa asked, with a raised brow.

“No,” Ben answered, frowning. “Is that why you’re here?” He asked Anakin.

“Anakin was just leaving,” Organa said.

“Nope,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t leaving.”

Both Ben and Organa looked Anakin in confusion.

“I’m staying.”

“It seemed like you were leaving when you ran into me,” Ben pointed out.

“I needed to run an errand, but it can wait.”

“Or you could just do it,” Ben said, incredulously. “There’s no need for both of us to be here.”

Did he honestly think Anakin would trust him anywhere near Padme?

“All four of you,” Organa pointed out.

“What?” Ben asked.

“Two clone troopers were sent as well,” Organa told him, jerking his thumb over his shoulder into the room behind him.

Ben’s nostrils flared in annoyance. “There you go,” he said to Anakin, his tone oddly measured. “We’re covered. We’re so covered we’ll likely trip over each other if something did happen.”

Anakin hated to admit it but, Ben was right. There was no need for four guards. He could take fifteen minutes to run to the Temple and talk to Rey. He could even bring her back here, so they could discuss Darth Vader closer to where Padme was—just in case—provided she’d come with him.

He wouldn’t be leaving Padme alone with Ben. There were a dozen other senators in the room and the clones. Perhaps he could tell them not to let her leave with Ben? Or was that too indiscreet?

Still, last night's vision ate at him. He needed to know about Darth Vader and what he wanted with Padme. The Sith had been genuinely distressed when he’d been told of her death, Anakin had felt it. Anakin had no idea what or who he was dealing with. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't know how to keep Padme safe.

“You’re right,” Anakin said slowly, looking at Ben.

Ben looked at him like he'd gone crazy.

“I’m being difficult. I need to run to the Temple and speak with Rey,” he continued as Ben and Organa stared at him. “When I return we’ll send the clones away with a different assignment.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Organa said with a smile and a slight bow in Anakin’s direction. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Ben lingered after Organa left just to frown at Anakin. He apparently didn't take a change of heart so easily, or so Anakin thought until Ben said: “You won’t find her.”

“What?”

“She’s not there.”

“Where is she? When will she be back?”

Ben eyed the security droids distrustfully.

“I’m not discussing it here,” he said.

“Why?”

The Senate Dome was likely the safest place on Coruscant—Jedi Temple, aside—after the upgrade in security. Why would Ben feel exposed in the Senate Dome? Who did he think would care what the Security Droids recorded?

The answer was obvious when Anakin took half a second to think about it. Palpatine. For some reason Ben didn’t trust the Chancellor. Who else, other than the Jedi, had the power to order new clones and commission Security Droids? He must have overseen the upgraded security after last night’s attack. It seemed like a good thing to Anakin but it obviously put Ben on edge. It was clear Anakin wouldn’t get any information out of him here.

“Fine. Come with me.”

* * *

Much to Ben’s surprise Anakin led them outside of the Senate Dome and down into the shadier—but densely populated—underbelly of Coruscant. The chances of them being overheard here were slim.

“Why isn’t Rey at the Temple?” Anakin demanded when he finally stopped. He had ducked into an alleyway and was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, the picture of nonchalance. But Ben saw the cracks in the facade—the dark circles under his eyes, the twitch in his cheek, the rapid tapping of his fingers against his forearm—Anakin was far from relaxed.

“She’s getting a kyber crystal,” Ben told him. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the city. There were people of many different species milling past where they stood, oblivious. “They left this morning.”

Anakin’s face fell, distraught. “They?”

“She’s being accompanied by Kenobi.”

“Obi-Wan went off world and didn’t tell me?” Anakin asked in disbelief.

“Does he usually tell you?” Anakin was a grown man. Why would Kenobi keep him informed of his comings and goings?

“Yes!”

Huh. They were closer than Ben had thought. At least in Anakin’s mind. Ben’s Jedi Master had left frequently without a word to him or any of his other students.

“They should be back in a few days,” Ben said placatingly, since Anakin seemed distraught.

Anakin let out a groan of frustration and actually pulled on his hair.

“I don’t know if I have that long!” He cried. “Now who am I going to ask about—”

Anakin cut off, staring at Ben.

Ben stared back with mounting dread. There was only one reason that Anakin could be looking so desperately for Rey. It was ironic, really. Ben had spent all morning trying to warn people about the future and here was someone who wanted to know and it was the one person least likely to believe anything from Ben’s mouth.

“Tell me about your time,” Anakin said, finally. His blue-eyed gaze is a riotous contradiction; wavering between softly pleading and stern commandment.

How would Anakin handle any of the knowledge that Ben could share with him? The answer was glaringly obvious: poorly. All of the information that Ben could share that could help Anakin were all things that Anakin wouldn’t take Ben’s word for. Anakin wouldn’t believe him.

Ben couldn’t tell him about Sidious’s identity or intentions, because his faith in Palpatine was stronger than any grain of faith he had in Ben.

He couldn’t tell Anakin that he fell to the dark side, because he was so prejudice about dark side users.

He _definitely_ shouldn’t tell him that they were related.

Trusting the Jedi Council with this information was much, much different than trusting Anakin Skywalker with it. Anakin Skywalker, who had seemed good natured and charming when Ben had first come, but who looked like he was a hair's breadth away from a complete collapse right now. What had changed? Ben couldn’t say for certain.

So as much as it pained him, Ben had only one answer for Anakin.

“No.”

Anakin’s eyes rounded in surprise. Had he really not expected that?

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t believe me that Rey isn’t your granddaughter,” Ben reminded him.

Anakin’s hands balled into fists. “That’s because you’re lying about that!”

Ben couldn’t help but sneer. “Why would I lie about that?”

“You also called Palpatine a monster,” Anakin said, by way of answer.

“I did.”

“Stop!” Anakin demanded. “Stop with your lies. This is important! Lives are at stake and you’re trying to confuse me.”

“I know lives are at stake,” Ben had to grind his teeth to keep from snapping at Anakin. Anakin didn’t know about Ben’s failure with the Jedi Council that morning. He wasn’t trying to goad Ben. At least not that way. “I’m not trying to confuse anyone. I’m trying to be honest.” He was trying to do good. It was much harder with Rey gone.

“Fine!” Anakin spat. “Don’t tell me everything. Just tell me how Padme dies!”

“I don’t know how Padme dies.”

“But she does die!” Anakin cried, pointing a finger at Ben. “You didn’t deny that.”

“Everyone dies,” Ben reminded him.

“You said I didn’t keep her safe in your time.”

Oh, yeah. He’d said that in anger, to get under Anakin’s skin…it must have worked better than he’d intended.

“I did.”

“How can I keep her safe this time?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admitted. “I’m trying to figure that out myself.”

Anakin sneered. “And why would you care to keep her safe?” He asked. “So Darth Vader can get his hands on her? On our child?”

“What?” Ben asked, stunned and then, as the implications of what Anakin had said sunk in: “How do you know that name? What do you mean ‘get his hands on her?”

“I know he kills her!” Anakin cried, dejectedly. “I just don’t know how or why or who he is!”

Ben couldn't sympathize with Anakin’s distress at the moment, he was too stunned by what he was hearing. “Darth Vader kills her? How do you know this?”

“I had a vision.”

“That’s how you know that name, too? From the vision?”

Anakin took a moment to answer. He’d calmed down a bit under Ben’s questions. “Yes,” he said, resolutely and obviously lying. Suddenly he wasn't looking at Ben and was shifting his weight from foot to foot. Ben didn't even need the Force to tell him that Anakin’s answer was false.

“You’re lying. Why are you lying? If the Force didn’t tell you about Darth Vader did—did Rey tell you?”

Anakin’s face was stricken for just a moment, before he regained control, his expression settling on contempt.

“You’re a darksider,” he said, mulishly. “You do bad things for malicious reasons. I—I didn’t mean to do it. I’ve apologized. It’s fine.”

For a wild moment Anakin’s words made him think of Han and Ben has to clamp down on that train of thought before it could overtake him. There were lots of reasons to do bad things, none of them were justifiable.

“You’re not making any sense,” Ben told him. What was Anakin hiding from him? What had made him so defensive? And why did Ben have a sinking feeling that it involved Rey?

“It doesn’t concern you anyway,” Anakin told him and Ben was suddenly incredibly sick of hearing variations of that phrase from Anakin Skywalker.

“You keep saying that but you don’t understand how all of this does concern me. It has everything to do with me.”

Anakin snorted in disbelief so Ben changed tactics. Surely someone would trust him today. He failed with Yoda and Windu but, despite their animosity, Anakin was still Ben’s blood. Surely they could reach a commonality so that they could stop speaking in circles around each other. Surely they could get somewhere for Padme’s sake.

“Anakin, please,” Ben started. It was a good start, he made his voice as soft as he could and placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. _It’s what Bail would do_ , Ben thought, _he's good with people_. The contact at least startled Anakin into looking Ben in his eyes.

“If you want to think of Rey as your family then fine. Please do. She wants to be a part of a family, more than anything. Love her like a grandchild you can be proud of, but please understand that she’s all I have,” Ben continued. He swallowed, compressing his lips and building his courage. Anakin looked conflicted by Ben’s words.

“I’ve burned bridges with my own family but I’m _trying—_ I’m trying so hard to be someone she can love and be proud of. But she doesn’t know the legacy of Darth Vader like I do. If she’s told you about him the facts could be skewed. If you’ll tell me what she’s told you maybe I can clarify. We can work together to keep Padme safe.”

Ben hated to beg Anakin but there was a horrible feeling churning in his gut. He didn't know what was wrong about Rey telling Anakin about Darth Vader but it _was_ wrong. And the root of that stemmed from Anakin. Of course it did. Anakin was the root of decades worth of misfortune and grief.

Had he really killed Padme? There was no way Vader had killed Padme. Surely someone would have mentioned that. Wouldn’t something like that have been tacked on to the list of infamy? Slaughtered thousands, sewed the seeds of fear in the galaxy, stamped out all hope, eradicated the Jedi, killed his wife…

Anakin looked at Ben with a terrible mixture of pity and guilt.

“She didn’t tell me anything, Ben. Not really. She told me his name and that he was a Sith. That’s mostly it. All that mattered, at least.”

Ben nodded, taking his hand off of Anakin’s shoulder. He wanted to accept it. “So you asked her about your vision?” That made sense. Anakin obviously trusted Rey more than Ben, who was very used to not being trusted by now, but— “No, that’s not right. You were looking for her today to ask about your vision. So how did he come up?”

“When she told me about the time travel,” he said, his expression remorseful.

“She told me it was an accident.”

“It was. She didn’t mean to tell me.”

Ben shook his head. This wasn’t making sense, there was something still missing. Something Anakin was still not telling him. “She has no reason to bring up Darth Vader by accident, Anakin.”

“She didn’t bring him up by accident. She very much intended to. She— She’s from the future. She knew I was going to be a father. She wouldn’t tell me anything about my future, even though she knew…I looked for more.”

Ben wondered how many more times he could be stunned into silence today. “You… _looked_?” He made himself ask.

“I didn’t see anything that pertained to me. She shielded her mind with that Sith abomination,” Anakin explained. “Told me I asked for it.” He gave a weak chuckle, in an attempt at levity.

Ben wasn’t amused.

“You looked for your future. You looked. In Rey’s head,” Ben said, his voice coming out expressionless as he tried to process the fact that Anakin had gone into Rey’s head, again. In such a way that Rey felt the need to protect herself. And she hadn't even told him.

“I’ve been having visions of Padme dying ever since,” Anakin confided, oblivious to the riot of emotions that Ben was trying to field at this very moment. “Usually she dies in childbirth but last night, I saw—”

“Last night you saw Darth Vader kill Padme.”

Anakin winced at Ben’s unsympathetic tone in reference to Padme’s impending doom. He couldn't help it. It was simply too much. He knew that when he let out any emotion, he would let out every emotion.

“Not exactly,” Anakin said. “He was told he killed her in a rage. What does he want with Padme?”

“Everything.”

Anakin’s expression clouded with confusion but before he could say anything else Ben let loose what he was feeling at that exact moment: “You deserve to be plagued by this.”

“What?” Anakin actually took a step back from Ben. Oddly, Ben thought, as there was no malice to his words. He'd simply stated a fact.

“You deserve this,” Ben said again. But Padme didn’t. Rey hadn’t. “You wanted something and decided that it was well within your right to have it. You made Rey suffer for your selfishness!”

It was truly a wonder to watch, how quickly Anakin’s expression went from bemused to furious. “ _You_ do that!” He yelled at Ben, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “When the two of you first got here you were in and out of her head constantly.”

“It’s not the same!” Not anymore. Ben had only went into her head without her consent that one time. Anakin had willfully done it twice now. That Ben knew of, at least. No wonder Rey thought she needed shields so badly. Ben couldn't escape the guilt that he bore some responsibility for that.

“It is!”

Oh Force, Ben was going to hit him. He NEEDED to punch this man.

“Don’t _you_ moralize to _me,_ ” Anakin continued as Ben tried to reign in his violent impulse _._ “I am a _Jedi_ and you’re—” Anakin regarded Ben with disgust. “You fell,” Anakin accused, venom in his voice.

“I did,” Ben agreed, baring his teeth. “It's easier than you think. You’re well on your way to figuring that out.”

“I would never turn to the dark side!”

Ben couldn't help it now, he got into Anakin’s face. “What do you think the decision to force yourself into Rey’s head was?” He yelled. “A grey area? A lapse of judgement? Let’s call it what it was: a moment of darkness! At Rey’s expense.”

“I’ve apologized to her for it.”

“That erases the it?” Ben asked sarcastically. “I wish I’d known that after I killed my--FUCK!”

Ben spun away from Anakin with an enraged cry; his fists clenched at his sides.

“Get out of my sight!” Ben yelled. At Anakin, at the onlookers who had stopped walking and clogged the alleyway entrance for a show, at a durasteel wall, technically. “Get out of here before I hit you and don’t stop!”

* * *

Anakin watched Ben have a sort of fit; screaming and taking his lightsaber to the durasteel outer wall of a building. It was fascinating. The lengths of destruction this man would go to to not hit someone, sometimes. He’d punched that bounty hunter in the face last night but today he was trying not to punch Anakin? Anakin probably deserved to get punched. But no, Ben would rather do untold amounts of property damage.

He couldn't believe the Jedi Council had allowed Ben to keep his saber after the first outburst he’d had. He was clearly unbalanced. He didn’t deserve to keep a sacred weapon. And now there were people gathering to watch the wreckage; fearful murmurs barely audible over Ben’s outraged cries.

Anakin was the Jedi, he should probably put a stop to this before the situation got out of hand.

Intending to disarm Ben, Anakin willed the strange, crossguarded saber from Ben’s hand into his.

It seemed like Ben didn’t even notice the absence at first; he just clenched his empty fist and continued to scream. Anakin, however, noticed the presence of the saber in his palm immediately.

It was cold.

It was burning him alive.

This saber had been used to commit so many atrocities that it was a dark object. It was also, distinctly Ben Solo’s and it did not take kindly to being disengaged from its master.

Anakin had a moment to remember Obi-Wan saying: “This weapon is your life.” He had a moment to see Ben realize that the weapon was gone and turn to retrieve it.

Anakin had a moment, from the moment the saber landed in his palm to being overtaken by a cacophony of noise that drowned everything else out.

 _“You cannot deny the truth that is your family!”_ A man said, like a threat.

 _“You’re afraid. That you’ll never be as strong as Darth Vader!”_ Rey said, her voice strained.

 _“When I found you, I saw what all master’s live to see,”_ a deep voice crooned. _“Raw, untamed power! And beyond that, something truly special, the potential of your bloodline. A new Vader.”_

 _“Forgive me. I feel it again. The pull to the light. Supreme Leader senses it. Show me again, the power of the darkness. And I will let nothing stand in our way,”_ this was begged in a voice that was so distorted that it took Anakin a moment to recognize it. _“Show me, grandfather. And I will finish what you started.”_

 _“SKYWALKER LIVES!”_ Anakin’s own name stuck in his head like a barb as the voice that he assumed was Ben’s dark side master spoke again, dripping with anger and contempt. _“The seed of the Jedi Order lives! As long as it does hope lives in the galaxy. I thought you would be the one to snuff it out. Alas, you’re no Vader. You’re just a child, in a mask.”_

Ben’s master continued with praise: _“My worthy apprentice, son of darkness, heir apparent to Lord Vader. Where there was conflict, I now sense resolve. Where there was weakness, strength. Complete your training, and fulfill your destiny.”_

The noise of the street came back to Anakin slowly, but not before one final voice. This time Ben’s, clear as an alarm: _“Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you were meant to be.”_

Ben’s saber hit the platform with a thud. Anakin had dropped it.

Ben was staring at him, had been staring at him through the entirety of that…vision? Warning? Whatever that was.

Whatever that was it had made something very clear to Anakin.

“What did you see? What did the Force show you?” Ben asked, cautiously as he called his saber back into his hand.

Anakin hadn't seen anything. It showed him the truth.

“You’re the grandson of Darth Vader.”

Ben’s face twisted. Anakin couldn’t even begin to decipher the emotions that Ben was warring with. The overall effect looked a lot like despair.

He’d been a fool to assume that Rey telling him Darth Vader was a father had been an idle comment.

It was a warning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The force doesn't count as a deus ex machina if it makes the situation worse, right?


	16. every moment points toward the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sure that there are still problems with this chapter (typos, pacing, etc.) but I can't sit on it another day. If anyone notices any issues, please let me know so I can fix them. Otherwise, enjoy.
> 
> EDIT: I changed the chapter title for reasons. This title is taken from The Mountain Goats' song: Sax Rohmer #1.

Anakin burst into the offices of the Loyalist Committee, searching, wild-eyed, for his wife.

“Padme!” He cried when he spotted her. Several heads turned to regard him quizzically, but Anakin ignored them, cutting across the room toward Padme, who sat, taken aback by his entrance.

“General Skywa—”

“No time,” Anakin told her, grabbing her upper arm and hauling her to her feet.

There were several protests from her colleagues, Bail Organa even stood, like he was going to confront Anakin.

“I have to get you to a safe location,” Anakin said in a stage whisper, loud enough that everyone would think twice before blocking their exit.

“Alright,” Padme relented, a mulish edge to her voice. But Anakin wasn’t waiting for her permission. He had to take control of the situation before Solo got it into his head to try anything.

* * *

Ben didn’t know what to do. Whatever the Force had shown Anakin had caused him to jump to the worst possible conclusion.

At least no one in his family had tried to kill him yet… That was likely to change if he didn’t do something.

And yet, Ben had not been able to deny Anakin’s accusation. Ben had stood there, frozen with shock, unable to say anything in his defense. He had lived as Vader’s heir for years now. Even before Snoke. When he had been young it was a matter of contention between his parents that he was too much like Vader. Ben himself had believed it.

But he didn’t want to be defined by that anymore, he wanted to do better, to be better. For Rey. And for the hope Han had died for. He could admit that, now.

And Anakin… Anakin was a threat to Padme. Ben had to act. He had to do something! But he was stuck. Desperately, he poked Rey’s end of the bond, he needed guidance (she hadn’t been gone a day and he’d managed to make a ruin of things) but there was no response. No help there.

So he’d messed things up again. What could he do? With this information, what would Anakin do first?

Secure Padme’s safety.

Alright. And second?

Would he go to the Jedi Council? Tell them that Ben was kin to Sith?

No, that made too much sense for Anakin.

What would Anakin do? Who did Anakin Skywalker trust to help him?

Realization sunk into Ben like dread.

Palpatine.

* * *

“Anakin, you’re hurting me!”

Padme tried again to wrench her arm out of her husband’s grip, but his hand around her arm was like a vice. She was glad it wasn’t the mechanical one. She’s likely to bruise anyway.

“What’s wrong?” She hissed as he drug her down the hallways. They were getting strange looks and Padme’s face burned with mortification.

“Where are we going?” She demanded.

“The Chancellor,” Anakin said. “I need to ask him to do something for me. Then we’ll go to your apartment, where you’re safe.”

“Anakin, what happened?” Padme tried to drag her feet to slow down his frantic pace but he just pulled her onward and she was afraid she’d topple over—unbalanced as she was—if she tried too hard to stop his relentless pace. Maybe if she fell he wouldn’t even stop. Maybe he’d just carry her dead weight around forever.

“Tell me what’s going on!”

“Trust me,” he hissed over his shoulder. He was tense, strung taunt like a bow. It didn’t feel like _he_ was trusting _her_. But what could she do? Except follow as he pulled her along.

As they neared Palpatine’s office Padme spotted a familiar face. It was Ben.

She was glad, for a moment, to see him. They hadn’t had a chance to talk today and they had so much to discuss. They must talk about Anakin’s revelation and about his fears for her safety— fears that seemed to circle around Ben. She hoped that wasn’t what this was about.

She hadn’t even thanked him for saving her life.

“Anakin, please,” Ben said, entreatingly. “We should talk about this. Just you and me and Padme.”

So this was about Anakin’s distrust of Ben. Well, at least _someone_ wanted to include her.

Ben was blocking their path to Palpatine’s office but he looked lost.

Anakin stopped too, standing in front of her in a way that seemed like he was using his body to shield her.

“Get out of my way.”

“No,” Ben shook his head. “I don’t know what you think you saw but you can’t have all the facts.”

“I know everything I need to know about you.”

Ben actually flinched, it was a minute gesture, but Padme saw.

“You don’t,” he insisted. “I’ll answer all of the questions you were going to ask Rey. I’ll tell you the truth. You can even look in my mind for yourself. Just. Not. Here.”

“You don’t trust Palpatine.”

“No, I don’t.”

“That alone tells me how trustworthy you are,” Anakin snarled. “Get out of my way!”

“Don’t do this, Anakin!”

“Out of my way, darksider.” Anakin put his hand, threateningly, on his lightsaber hilt and Padme was struck with a wild fear. He wouldn’t! Would he?

Ben’s lip curled at the threat. "You're just like your son,” Ben spat at him with vehemence.

Padme gasped. Anakin had said Ben was from the future, so did this mean he knew her child?

“You look to the Force to solve your problems,” Ben continued, his eyes glassy. “And when it shows you a _garbled mess of banthashit_ you make it my problem! Why trust it? When has the Force ever been on our side?"

"Our side? We’re not on the same side, darksider!" Anakin said with withering scorn.

“What is going on?”

This came from behind Ben, who turned and—

There was Palpatine, looking quite put out by all the noise outside of his office.

“Nothing. Sorry to disrupt you,” Ben said at the same time Anakin said: “Chancellor, a moment.”

Palpatine looked confusedly from Ben to Anakin.

“Let’s take this dispute out of the corridor,” Palpatine relented, waving the three of them into his office.

Anakin grabbed Padme’s arm again, herding her past Ben while keeping his eyes on him as they pass and himself between she and Ben. Padme looked over her shoulder at Ben as she was dragged past, trying to catch his eye. He looked grim, but after a moment’s hesitation, he followed them inside Palpatine’s office.

* * *

This was the worst possible scenario that Ben could think of.

Had Palpatine heard his outburst? Did it matter? Anakin would tell him. Anakin would tell him everything. The fool. It was sickening to see the blind faith Anakin has in that monster.

It was sickening to know that Ben had been in a similar position, not so very long ago. And now, Palpatine would kill them all.

Well, no, probably not Anakin. Had Palpatine talked Anakin into killing Padme the first time around? Could he do it again? Had Ben managed to place any doubt about Palpatine’s motives into Anakin mind?

Ben could offer himself instead. Surely his power was comparable to Anakin’s. Perhaps he could make a deal. His servitude for Anakin’s release? For Padme’s safety?

How would Rey take that decision? Ben cringed inwardly just thinking about it. Best not.

There had to be another way.

“Now, do please tell me what all of this is about?” Palpatine asked.

He moved to stand in front of an ornate desk, one hand gently folded over the other, as he regarded the three of them. His gaze shifted from Anakin to Padme to Ben; concerned empathy in his blue eyes.

Ben scrambled to think of an answer to that. He should take control of the situation before Anakin started running his mouth.

Before Ben could think of a convincing story Anakin announced: “Chancellor, I’d like to request that you bar Ben Solo from the Senate Dome.”

Padme jerked her arm out of Anakin’s grip. “You can’t be serious,” she said, giving him a seething glare.

Anakin looked hurt by her display but he composed himself quickly. He gave Ben a distrustful glance where he was hovering near the door, before turning to Palpatine, who looked taken aback by the suggestion.

“I’m afraid I am serious,” Anakin continued. “Chancellor, I know he has been of service to the Republic in his time on Coruscant but I have reason to believe that he is a threat to the beings in this building and to Senator Amidala, specifically.”

Palpatine’s face was impassive. “Can you elaborate?”

Ben wasn’t sure what Anakin had thought would happen here. If he believed that Palpatine would blindly grant him his boon, no questions asked, or what, but it looked like the question clearly threw him.

“I—I can’t. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have all of the facts. This is a precautionary measure. While I investigate.”

Palpatine frowned, unconvinced.

“Padme, my friend,” Palpatine turned toward her, imploringly. “You’re a sensible woman. What do you think?”

Padme straightened her spine before saying: “Ben saved my life.” Anakin turned to stare at her in disbelief. “You have to have evidence _before_ you punish people, Anakin,” she reminded him, looking disappointed.

“And you?” Palpatine asked Ben before Anakin could say anything back to Padme.

Ben regarded his grandparents quietly for a moment. Anakin looked obviously hurt by Padme’s words. He clearly thought that both she and Palpatine would be on his side in this. Ben didn’t want to isolate him from Padme. Not really. The more isolated he was, the more likely it would be for him to slip into the dark side. Ben hadn’t been lying when he’d told him that it was easy to do.

“I never had a reason to be in the Senate Dome anyway,” Ben said.

Padme turned to look at him quizzically, while Anakin gaped.

“Nonsense,” Palpatine laughed. “You’ve done an exemplary job. You did save Senator Amidala’s life last night, after all. That is commendable. But,” he paused, looking conflicted. “Anakin’s instincts have been a service to us all in the past."

“I can tell you that he's an agent of the Sith,” Anakin blurted. “An agent of the—”

“Anakin I've killed more Sith than you!” Agent of the Sith? For Forces’ sake, why, then, would he have killed Count Dooku?

Anakin cast an annoyed glance at Ben. “An agent of the dark side, then. The terminology is irrelevant. I know what I heard!”

“You went looking in the Force for reasons I'm untrustworthy!” Ben accused.

“I did not!”

“You found what you wanted to find!”

Anakin turned fully away from Palpatine and Padme now, to round on Ben. “What I _want_ is for you to stay away from Padme!”

“I am not the threat to her here.” Out of everyone in the room, Ben was the least likely to harm Padme.

“Anakin,” Padme chastised. “Ben hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not true. Is it Ben?” Anakin said, his voice scathing.

No. That was definitely not true.

Anakin, scenting an opening, approached Ben. “Why were you in Rey’s head?”

“Do not bring her into this.”

“What possible reason could you have to go into her mind so casually?”

“I wasn’t the one who went in uninvited,” Ben reminded him.

Anakin’s lip curled. “How did you manipulate her into allowing it?”

“We are not talking about her _here_.”

“What possible reason—”

“Quiet!”

“We are going to talk about it here,” Anakin demanded. “Right now! Tell me or I’ll know you’re just trying to salvage yourself. Because I know the truth about you.”

Anakin didn’t know anything about Ben.

Furiously Ben grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him close. “I will not endanger Rey for you,” he whispered, viciously.

“You can’t have a training bond with her _and_ feel her up in the training room,” Anakin whispered back.

Before Ben even thought, he had let go of Anakin just to swing at him. He was so angry and Anakin had made everything worse and it was so satisfying to sink his fist into his face.

“Ani!” Padme cried.

Anakin fell to the floor and Padme rushed to him. Ben hoped he broke his jaw. Then, maybe he’d shut up for a while.

“That was highly unnecessary,” Palpatine said mildly. He was standing close to Ben now, a frown on his face. Ben hadn’t heard him move. How long had he been close? “Surely that ill-mannered girl can’t be worth—”

Ben bared his teeth to Palpatine, caution thrown to the wind in his rage. “Keep your insidious games away from her.”

Palpatine gaped at Ben.

Ben realized, too late, his unfortunate word choice.

Was it enough to tip Palpatine off that Ben knew his identity?

Padme was fussing over Anakin behind Palpatine so neither of them could see the moment that his kindly face morphed into an ugly leer.

“Or what?” He said quietly, for Ben’s ears only.

* * *

Padme noticed Ben leaving the Chancellor's office abruptly while she was crouched on the floor, tending to Anakin. His nose was bloody but nothing had broken.

“Where is he going?” She asked Palpatine. “You didn't actually bar him from the building, did you?”

Palpatine smiled sadly down at them.

“I trust Anakin's instincts above all else,” he said gravely. “Besides, he assaulted a Jedi Knight before my very eyes.”

Padme frowned. It looked to her like Anakin was provoking Ben but she didn't get the chance to say that before Anakin was clambering to his feet.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” he said, sincerely, his voice thick from his busted nose. “I knew I could count on you.”

Anakin looked so gratefully at Palpatine that Padme felt momentarily guilty. Was she a disloyal wife because she could see the wrongful way Anakin had handled this? If he had seen something in the Force why hadn't he just told her that to begin with? Did he not think her trustworthy?

These feelings nagged at Padme for the rest of the day. They were forefront in her mind as Anakin helped her up from the floor and they festered as she watched him say grateful goodbyes to Palpatine and they lingered as she was escorted back to her apartment.

Was it too much to ask that _someone_ tell her what was going on?

“What did you see in the Force today?” She finally asked Anakin as he was locking the two of them into her apartment.

Anakin turned to her where she stood in the foyer, arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t see anything,” he admitted.

Padme felt a spike of revulsion. “What—”

Anakin came to her before she could finish, laying his hands on her shoulders. “It was auditory. Not visual,” he told her, placatingly. “The Force told me that Ben is the grandson of the Sith that kills you. He’s here to ‘kill the past’—whatever that means. That’s his objective.”

Padme thought this over. “You told me that I died in childbirth.”

“You did. Or you would have. It’s compli—”

“It sounds like the Force is sending you mixed signals.”

“The Force is sending me _possibilities_ ,” Anakin said, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

“Do you think it’s _possible_ you don’t know what the Force is trying to tell you?”

Anakin stepped away from her, letting her go to cross his own arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Padme,” he said, angrily. “Is it possible that you took Ben Solo’s side over mine today? I thought that was an impossibility and yet, here we are.”

Padme was quiet for a moment, his words hurting her more than she liked.

“I don’t feel like he’s a threat to me,” she admitted, quietly.

“The Force says otherwise,” he said, a note of condescension in his tone.

“Did you ever consider that because I’m carrying a Force sensitive child that maybe it’s trying to tell _me_ something? That I can feel it too?”

She actually hadn’t considered that herself until she said it. Could that be why she felt so deeply lately? Why she cried so much? Why she didn’t sleep well? Or was that normal for a pregnancy?

Anakin looked at her skeptically. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

Padme threw her hands in the air. “Oh, what would you know about it?” She asked, exacerbated. Honestly, had he ever been pregnant with a Force sensitive being? Perhaps it didn’t matter if Anakin knew she was pregnant or if he was excited to he a parent. Perhaps she was always going to be alone in this.

Anakin sighed. “Of course you feel the Force, Padme,” he said, apologetically. He unfolded his arms and reached for her hand, bridging the space between them “But it’s different for you than it is for me. The Force’s will is more subtle for non-sensitives. Why don’t you trust what the Force shows me? When did you stop trusting me?”

Padme looked down at their clasped hands. She could feel tears pricking behind her eyes again and she hated that she was so weepy lately and she hated that Anakin doubted her. But what she hated most of all was that he’d given her reason to doubt him.

“I do trust you,” she said quietly. “But I feel like—like—”

She felt like that time he had come to her and told her he’d slaughtered a village and her stomach lurched at the association.

“I’m confused,” she finished, lamely. She couldn't tell Anakin that. He couldn't know that now that she’d associated this situation with that one revulsion threatened to claw itself out of her throat, like bile.

Unconsciously, she withdrew her hand from his and turned away from him, needing space. She floated to the sofa and sat, deep in thought.

She’d known it was a wrong, vile thing he’d done, but he had been hurting, he had needed comfort. So she’d buried her reservations and reassured him. She’d told herself that they’d revisit his crimes when he was stronger—more stable—but neither of them had brought it up again.

She couldn’t even give voice to it now. Despite feeling like she was balanced on a similar fulcrum.

She could swallow her reservations, because they were hurting Anakin. She could let him take care of things how he saw fit. She could keep her opinions to herself—because the Force didn’t speak to her—and in a few short years this would all be a gruesome memory.

Something ugly that her mind shied away from, just like him telling her that he’d slaughtered not only the men, but the women and children too.

But.

But she did have opinions and she’d never failed to voice them before.

What had happened on Tatooine had already been done when Anakin had told her. This wasn’t. She could do something here. She was not helpless.

Besides, it was looking unlikely that she’d survive this pregnancy. One way or another. She would have to accept that. Did she really want Anakin to be an unchecked despot of an authority figure who refused to listen to reason if he had to raise their child alone? No. She wanted him to be compassionate and loving. He’d need help. She would do what she could, but her help didn’t start with her silence.

First she needed to speak with Ben. She needed all of the facts and Anakin wasn’t going to give them to her. It would be difficult. She couldn’t just ditch Anakin when he was so high strung and go to the Jedi Temple.

He was pacing the length of her living room while she sat, unnerved on the sofa. Padme idly checked the chrono and was startled to realize that she’d been sitting in oblivion for hours, lost in her own head. Had Anakin been pacing that long? Had he tried to speak with her more? She doubted it. Surely she couldn’t sit in a fog through that? At a time like this?

How had she deluded herself into believing everything would be alright just last night?

Padme sighed and rubbed her eyes. At this point, even though she’d had the foresight to bring her datapad with her, between her racing mind and her anxious husband she would get no work done. She would have to let that go, for now. She was in the midst of a personal crisis. A family crisis? Huh, Anakin would not like that descriptor for anything involving Ben Solo. Even if it also included them and their child.

Their son.

It was almost funny. That Ben had sat through hours of her going on and on about her pregnancy and plans when he knew her son. Knew him personally, from the sound of it. He knew her son’s personality while she was going on about not knowing the gender. He had known what name she would choose while she was rattling on about being undecided. Would the name she was most partial to now be the name her son would bear in Ben’s future? Did she get to live long enough to name her own child?

She should stop. Her thoughts were getting her nowhere. She should get up and stretch her legs and find something to eat. Had she eaten today? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t hungry but one cannot grow a baby on will alone.

The air felt charged with tension; like it felt on Naboo before a thunderstorm. They scheduled the weather on Coruscant. The rains were designed to clean the streets and buildings. They were meant to be cleansing.

“I wish it’d rain,” Padme said, wistfully.

Anakin stopped pacing long enough to look at her askance. It seemed to take an age for her words to work their way into his head enough to have any meaning. Finally, he looked out of the window, curiously. “It feels like it’s going to storm,” he said distractedly.

“We haven’t had a proper storm in months,” Padme supplied, mostly for something to talk about. They couldn’t sit around all night, lost in their own heads. “The scheduled rains pass so quickly.” Perhaps if she could pry him out of his own head he would make sense to her again.

“There’s a storm coming from the—” Anakin stopped and rushed out onto the balcony and, oddly, looked  _down_.

“Anakin, what—”

Just as suddenly as he went out he came back in; this time closing the balcony doors and activating the locks.

“He’s here.” 

“Here?”

“Not _here_. But he’s around. Near the building.”

“Who?” Padme asked, but she knew the answer. Who else would have Anakin so agitated?

“Solo.”

“Ben’s casing our building?” Padme asked incredulously.

“No. He wants me to know he’s near. Otherwise he’d keep his presence hidden…” Anakin looked out of the window, curiously. “What’s he doing?”

So much for getting Anakin out of his head.

Ben didn't leave the area and he must not condense his presence in the Force because Anakin’s agitation only escalated as the night wore on. Padme did eventually eat but Anakin refused to stop his fretting long enough to join her. She had half a mind to go down and get Ben, just so someone would share a meal with her.

It was well after midnight when Padme decided she’d had all she could stand of this.

With a sigh she went to speak to C-3PO, who left the apartment discreetly and came back with the herb she'd asked for. It was native to Naboo; particularly potent but safe for human consumption. She went to the kitchen and brewed Anakin a strong tea with the herb C-3PO had fetched. She brewed herself a different tea. Steaming mugs on a tray, she went back and handed Anakin his herbal tea. 

He grimaced at the first sip but drank the whole mug when she pouted and said something about making it herself.

He was asleep on the sofa within the hour.

Padme sighed with relief, it was the first time her apartment hadn’t echoed with heavy footfalls in hours. She was exhausted physically and emotionally. She wanted nothing more than to go to her own bed, replace the mountain of pillows, and rest. But part of her was sure that Anakin would fight his way through the sleep aid by the sheer force of his will. If he woke up, she won’t get another chance to talk with Ben.

Quickly, she changed out of her senatorial garb and into something more suitable for movement—leggings and a loose tunic and a holster with a blaster, just in case—and started toward the Senate Dome.

She couldn’t feel the presence of Ben in the Force so she had to assume that he was still near 500 Republica. She also had to assume that he could feel her in the Force—whatever she felt like—she was betting he’d notice her leave the apartment and follow.

She took the public transport. It was slower than the her speeder, but that's what she was aiming for; slow, steady movement, towards the Senate Dome. Easily traceable. Besides, the transport was mostly empty this late at night—early in the morning—so she could take a moment to collect herself.

C-3PO was on strict orders to contact the Jedi, in case Padme was wrong and Ben went for a vulnerable Anakin instead. But she didn’t think that likely. If Ben had wanted to harm Anakin—more so than just throwing a punch—then Padme’s presence wouldn’t be a hindrance to a trained Force sensitive with a lightsaber. He wouldn’t have had to waste the better part of the night lingering on the streets of Coruscant outside of the building.

Still, she felt guilty for resorting to drugging her husband, so there was a part of her that was sure this wouldn’t work. That she was wrong and foolish.

Slow or not, eventually, she did make it. She exited the transport and the Senate Dome loomed ahead of her. Padme went straight for her office and left the door open.

It wasn’t long before there was a hesitant knock, alarmingly loud in the empty building. Padme looked up and was relieved to see Ben.

“Padme,” he said. “Can we talk?”

Padme studied him, he looked terrible in his rumpled black robes and there were dark circles under his eyes. But he also looked, weary and forlorn and regretful. So she’d been right.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

Ben looked around, uncertainly. “We shouldn’t speak in the building,” he said, but he stepped into her office, nonetheless. “The security droids—”

“I didn’t pass any on my way here,” Padme said, crossing her arms. “So they’re not doing a great job.”

Ben snorted, amused.

“Shut the door,” Padme told him. There wasn’t really anywhere else they could speak. They couldn't go back to her apartment and she doubted the Jedi would let Ben bring her into the Temple and she was not going to have such a potentially sensitive conversation in a public location.

Ben hesitated a moment, but did what he’s told.

“Anakin says you’re from the future,” she said when the door closed. She needed answers so she had to be in control of this conversation. It couldn't go off the rails, she didn't know how long Anakin would sleep, even with the aid.

Ben raised his chin disdainfully at the mention of Anakin. “Anakin also says that I’m a threat to you,” he pointed out. “He thinks that Palpatine is a good man, and that Rey is his grandchild.”

Padme blinked, taken aback. Anakin hadn’t mentioned that last part to her.

“He isn’t right about everything,” Ben continued. “But he is right about that. Rey and I came from roughly fifty years from now.”

Inexplicably Padme’s eyes prick with tears. An uncomfortable thought striking her.

“Did my son teach you about the Force?”

Ben gaped at her. “How did you—?”

Padme shrugged. “Luke is the name I’m most partial to,” she told him, her voice quiet. “When you were teaching Rey how to shield—in the garden—you mentioned that a man by that name taught you how to shield and earlier you said—”

“I know what I said,” Ben cut her off, his tone clipped. She got the feeling that he was more annoyed with his loose tongue than he was with her deductive skills.

Padme swallowed, her voice thick with emotion when she said: “It seemed like too much of a coincidence with time travel involved.”

“You’re right.”

“But you fell,” Padme said, her voice breaking. Why can’t the people that she cared for get along with each other?

Ben looked away. “He and I didn’t see eye to eye. That doesn’t mean I didn’t—” He cut himself off, chewing on his own mouth.

“You didn’t?” Padme pressed, gently.

“That I didn’t respect him,” Ben admitted, his familiar dark eyes looking at her sadly. “That he wasn’t a good person. I’m responsible for my own choices, Padme.”

Padme nodded, silent tears streaming down her face. She didn't like that they couldn’t get along. She didn't like that her son was in any way a part of Ben’s fall to the dark side, a choice that clearly caused him pain. She didn't understand where this bone deep hurt was coming from.

“I’m sorry that the two of you couldn’t get along,” Padme said through her tears.

“Me too,” Ben said, regretfully. “But that…” Ben shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “It's done. It won’t help you now.”

He took a step toward her and when she didn't step away Ben came closer.

“Please, Padme, take it from someone who knows the signs. Anakin is slipping into the dark side—his fear and paranoia. He’s a threat to himself…and others.”

Padme was wiping away tears, only for them to be replaced by more, because she knew this, didn't she? She should know this better than anyone. But she loved him, despite it. Loved him so much that it hurt. 

“Anakin was wrong. You don’t want to kill me,” she cried. “You’re not targeting my son, because he’s Force sensitive.”

“No,” Ben shook his head and compresses his lips self-consciously. “I want you to live. I want you to have the chance to be the mother that you never got to be in my time.”

Padme wanted to say something but she was crying too hard with worry, and with relief.

"I'm not here to harm you or your children,” Ben continued, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking, earnestly into her face. “Please believe that."

Padme sniffled. "Children?" she asked, looking up at him in disbelief and… hope. But Ben’s head was turning away; his attention caught by something she couldn't feel.

She turned to look in the direction he was staring and… Palpatine was standing in the doorway. She hadn’t even heard it open. And for reasons she didn't quite understand, Padme was afraid.


	17. to the true believer everything's a sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a doozy wasn't it? Was that the first cliffhanger for this fic? I honestly can't remember but ya'll were super pressed about the last chapter. I honestly wasn't trying to stress anyone. I just thought it was a good stopping point. Let's all bring our collective blood pressure down a notch...and go check on Rey.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "In the Shadow of the Western Hills" by The Mountain Goats.

Upon leaving the Jedi Temple Obi-Wan wrapped Rey up in a scarf. He was in a strange mood; unresponsive to her attempts at conversation as he avoided looking at her. Rey shrugged it off as Obi-Wan oddness. She was grateful for the scarf when they entered hyperspace and the temperature dropped, anyway.

In true Obi-Wan fashion, as soon as he was over his odd mood he set her to meditation.

“In hyperspace?” she asked, incredulously.

Obi-Wan regarded her with scorn. “Did you think Jedi only meditate at the Temple?”

“No,” she snapped, unsuccessfully biting back her irritation at his snide answer. “I just—” Rey casted around in her mind for the proper way to explain her dilemma. “There’s no life out here. Nothing for me to jump off of,” Rey explained. Well, no living things except Obi-Wan, but that was likely a bad idea.

Obi-Wan blinked at her for a long moment in confusion. “You shouldn’t have to connect to life to meditate,” he informed her, finally.

“I don’t understand. How can I feel the Living Force if I don’t—”

“Are you not part of the Living Force?”

“I guess…”

Obi-Wan gave her a critical look. “I suggest you take some time before we reach our destination to do some self-reflection,” he suggested.

Rey glared at him, at first, sure that he was being snide again. But when he only regarded her calmly she was forced to admit her confusion with an inelegant: “Huh?”

“Look inward,” Obi-Wan instructed her, tapping a finger against his own chest for emphasis. “And look closely. The caves on Ilum will.”

This was how Rey ended up shut in the cargo hold, alone. She tried to calm herself with deep breaths—like Ben did—but her mind whirled. 

She hoped Ben would be careful while she was gone and that he could keep Padme safe. Rey would like the opportunity to get to know the woman better. Besides, Ben seemed to be hinging his salvation on Padme’s life. Rey wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing but she’d need a lightsaber to be able to help him when the time came.

Then there was Palpatine to worry about and Anakin. Should Rey have told Ben that Anakin is more unstable than he let on? Perhaps, but Ben was already distrustful of his grandfather. Her feeding into that might have the opposite effect. (And it had taken so long to convince him that Anakin needed saving, as well.)

Rey tried to scrub these worries from her mind. To go beyond them…

It wasn’t long ago she’d been in hyperspace with her friends and allies in the Resistance. Were they alright? How were they fairing in the war without her? Against a leaderless First Order, no less? More than that, what did they think happened to her? Did they think she’d abandoned them?

No. Leia was strong with the Force. She’d likely have felt Rey’s sudden absence. And if not Rey’s, surely she would be able to feel her son’s. Leia would know Rey’s absence wasn’t a flight of fancy. (Even if she didn’t know exactly where Rey had gone.) She wouldn’t let Rey’s friends wonder.

This was, perhaps, not what Obi-Wan meant by ‘self-reflection.’

Rey shook her head, trying to get her anxieties out of the forefront of her mind.

Was this why the Jedi warned against ‘attachment?’ Because her worry for her friends clouded her objective? Well, Rey had spent years without people in her life, without anyone to worry about but herself. She wasn’t going to give them up because some stuffy Jedi— filled to the brim with contempt— said to. Not a single one.

Still…Somehow she got the impression that having friends wasn’t what they got so bent out of shape about.

But that was an issue for another time.

Self-reflection.

Who was she?

_You’re no one._

_You’re everything._

She was Rey. No more. No less.

Safely behind her shields, Rey had the urge to empty herself. She let go of her confusion, her anger, her sadness. Even her joy and serenity.

Distilled down to her core, she felt it.

The Cosmic Force.

It felt like everything. It felt like nothing. It pushed and pulled. It ran through her and veered away from her. It was everywhere and nowhere.

Distantly, she could sense eddies of possibility. She shied away from those pockets of prospective. She wasn’t actually looking for anything. The Force would show her what she needed to know when she needed to know it. As for everything else, she’d just have to trust herself.

Although, if the Force could be so kind as to let her know if she and Ben could get home, that’d be helpful. It would certainly take a load off her mind and ease some of her stress.

“GO BACK!”

Rey’s eyes sprang open in shock and the connection ebbed away, leaving her extremities tingling.

That was Luke’s voice!

* * *

Rey tried to tell Obi-Wan about hearing Luke’s voce but two things got in the way of her explanation.

Firstly, he didn't know who Luke was (Would be?) and didn't wish for an explanation. Detailed or otherwise.

Second, he didn't believe her.

“I’m sure you _think_ you heard the voice of a lost loved one—” Obi-Wan said again with a sigh. He had said this now in four different ways. Rey would be astounded if she didn’t have other things to worry about.

“I don’t know about ‘loved one,” she interrupted.

Obi-Wan leveled her with a flat, unimpressed stare. “Hardly my point,” he informed her. “The Force can take on many forms. It wasn’t really this ‘Luke’ person you heard. The Force just used a familiar voice to get its point across.”

“It told me to ‘go back.”

“To your own time, I assume.”

“I guess…” Rey was skeptical about that. There could be another meaning. “But you are wrong.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve seen Luke’s ghost before,” Rey told him. “Just not here, in this time.”

Obi-Wan gaped at her. “I— you. His—?” He spluttered for a moment. “That’s not how the Force works!”

Rey scoffed. “So let me get this straight. Not only do the Jedi here spend _decades_ teaching concepts that can be learnt in, like, a month, tops. As well as, discouraging exploration into other forms of Force use. You also don’t know about Force ghosts…” Rey put her fist to her chin in mock compilation. “One wonders what you all have been doing for a thousand generations.”

Obi-Wan huffed in something like amusement. “You’re opinions certainly are refreshing,” he said. The words sounded like a complement, but Rey doubted very much that Obi-Wan intended for her to be flattered.

“I think we should go back to Coruscant,” she said, coming back to her main point. Obi-Wan and the other Jedi were not right about everything all the time. Her opinions and her experiences _mattered_. They should be given consideration.

“Absolutely not,” Obi-Wan dismissed her, without a thought.

“But Luke said—”

“We’re already over halfway there!”

“I have a bad feeling about his, Obi-Wan,” Rey admitted, crossing her arms again, this time more out of a desire for comfort and hostility.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation.

“You really shouldn’t assign meaning to visions,” he chastised, after taking a deep breath. “Auditory or otherwise.”

Rey shrugged “It seemed pretty straightforward to me.”

Obi-Wan lifted his face and held his hands out to her, palms up, hands open. A compromising gesture.

“How about this? I will comm the Temple when we drop out of hyperspace. I’ll go so far as to comm again while you’re in the caves and again before we leave Ilum. Just to put your mind at ease.”

“You don’t believe me.” Rey couldn’t help the note of disappointment that crept into her voice. He might grate on her nerves most of the time but she _liked_ Obi-Wan. His dry wit was sharp and reminded her of Leia…and a little bit of Ben. His opinion mattered to her.

Obi-Wan must have noticed her dismay because he dropped the pretense of the wise Jedi Master that he wore like an outer robe and admitted, honestly: “I don’t want to restart this whole trip.”

Rey didn’t actually want to restart the trip either. Besides, hadn’t she learnt anything from her last vision? Obi-Wan was right about one thing, she shouldn’t assign meaning to visions.

“Fine,” Rey relented, uncrossing her arms. “But you’ll ask about Ben when you comm! And Anakin.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, sighing in relief.

“I’m going to go meditate some more,” Rey informed him. Maybe the Cosmic Force would have something more concrete to offer her if she tried again. Something to convince Obi-Wan, at least. Surely if it was actually urgent she would get another message?

“I think that is an excellent idea,” Obi-Wan said with a nod. “I’ll fetch you when we arrive.”

Rey went back to mediate in the cargo hold and although she skimmed the Cosmic Force a few more times, she wasn’t given another warning, in the form of her curmudgeonly old master, or otherwise.

She tried to take this as a good sign.

* * *

Ilum was cold. Not only was it cold, but there were gusty winds, blowing frigid air on her face and through her thermal wear. She was shivering uncontrollably as she made the trek from where Obi-Wan landed the ship to the cave she's meant to go into. She’s actually looking forward to going into the ice cave; if only to get out of the wind.

“Wasn’t there _anywhere_ else we could have went to harvest kyber?” Rey complained through her chattering teeth.

She’d seen snow before, but never this much. It was literally the worst planet she’d been on, and she’d been on a planet that also happened to be a super weapon. Somehow, Ilum managed to be worse than Starkiller Base. She’d been all over the galaxy with the Resistance, but Leia was a good, kind woman, who choose their bases carefully. She would never willingly subject her militia to such harsh conditions.

Obi-Wan turned to raise an eyebrow at her. She had her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her parka, the hood of which she would pull over her entire head if it had been long enough.

“Cold?” Obi-Wan asked with a raised eyebrow. If only his desert dry humor could keep her warm.

Rey scowled at him.

“This is the planet the Jedi have used for—”

“A thousand generations?” Rey guessed, her tone biting.

Obi-Wan’s mustache twitched. “Something like that,” he said, amused. “There used to be a Jedi temple here. It’s a sacred site.”

So the Jedi of this era were aware that there were other Jedi temples? Not just their big fancy Coruscant temple. Rey thought it rather a waste to not use any of them. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have the Jedi dispersed throughout the galaxy? Having all of them on Coruscant seemed to be courting disaster. Then again, in that scenario, woe betide any Jedi unfortunate enough to be stationed on the Jedi temple on Ilum.

“I’m afraid this is going to have to be a rather informal Gathering ceremony, as we are pressed for time,” Obi-Wan told her, getting to business.

Rey nodded. “We should get back to Coruscant as soon as possible.”

At least Obi-Wan had made good on his word. He’d commed the Temple when they dropped out of hyperspace. They were told that both Anakin and Ben were with Senator Amidala as her security detail which struck Rey as a little odd, since it was the wee hours of the morning on Coruscant. Had Ben stayed at his grandmother’s home? Rey hoped so. Maybe she was worried for nothing and they were all getting along.

“I meant that the solar event ends in about three standard hours.”

“What?”

“The sun will go down,” Obi-Wan informed her. “When it does the cave’s entrance will be blocked by ice. It won’t melt until the sun rises again.”

“Which takes how long?” Rey asked.

“Seventeen days,” he told her, cheerfully.

Rey groaned. “You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”

Obi-Wan just shrugged.

“I better get started then,” Rey said, starting toward the entrance.

“I take it you know what to look for?” Obi-Wan called.

Rey whirled back to face him. “A kyber crystal,” she said. Obviously.

“Not just any kyber crystal,” Obi-Wan told her. “You need to be on the lookout for one that is attuned to you.”

“How will I know?”

“You’ll know.”

Obi-Wan’s certainty caused Rey to be struck by an obtrusive fear. “What if there’s not one?” She asked. “I’m not supposed to be here, after all.”

“The Force brought you here for a reason,” Obi-Wan said, kindly. “Just be open to where it leads you.”

“Fine.” Her fear wasn’t exactly gone but she appreciated the reminder that the Force would guide her. “Anything else I should know before I get started?”

“The cave will use your own fears to try and discourage you away from your goal,” Obi-Wan told her, gravely. “That’s why I encouraged self-reflection on the way here—so you would be aware of what it might use against you.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I’ve been in a Force cave before,” she told him. “I know what to expect.”

Obi-Wan gave her an incredulous look. “Did you stop _fearing_ between now and then?” He asked, scathingly. “You imagine it’s going to be much of the same?”

“Fine, fine,” Rey waved at him, turning away, toward the caves once again. “You’re right, oh wise, Jedi Master. I am but a lowly worm; humbled by your gracious lesson.”

“Just go,” she heard him call, his voice tight with suppressed annoyance.

* * *

Once in the cave Rey could feel the Force surge all around her. It felt like it had seeped into every crevice of the cave; every stone, every crystal, she would bet that even the ice melt was saturated with it.

The best part (besides the blessed absence of the icy wind from outside) was that it was neither inherently light side or dark side. It just was.

It’s the clearest and cleanest she’d felt the Force since she’d been in this time and it’s a bit dizzying, initially. But it also filled her with a consuming certainty. She might be the Forces’ instrument, but it would not have brought her here to suffer unnecessarily. There was a plan. There was direction. She would be able to go home. Someday.

Confidence boosted, Rey allowed her feet to wander deeper into the cave.

There was no sense in her wandering. She didn't feel pulled in one direction or another. She just walked and trusted that it was the right direction. She didn't feel any doubt. She's certain that as long as she kept moving forward she would end up where she was supposed to be.

After about an hour of aimless walking— with none of those obstacles Obi-Wan warned her about— she saw it.

Faintly, at first, but growing in intensity as she approached. There was a faint, violet light coming from an opening ahead.

Rey approached cautiously. The Force through the opening was intense, like leaning too close to a fire. Rey had to crouch to go in, as the opening was narrow and close to the ground. She tried to shimmy her way in carefully but suddenly—she wasn’t sure if she was being pulled or pushed or how the distinction could matter right now—she was falling into the opening and sliding down an incline, slick with ice.

Rey’s yelp of surprise echoed around her but as soon as it started she'd reached the end and landed in a heap.

Cautiously, so as to make sure nothing was sprained or broken, Rey stood and took in her surroundings. The area she’d been deposited into was a sort of pocket. There was no exit, that she could see, except the way she came. The only thing in the small room was a small, shallow pool of water in the center. The ceiling was low and curved, giving the room a round shape.

The Force drew her to the pool. Rey crouched down to look and there was— Nothing.

Just the rock bottom of the pool and her own bemused expression reflected back to her.

Honestly, she shouldn’t have expected it to be that easy. As if a kyber crystal would be laying in the water, waiting for her.

Rey leaned back to think about her next move and to examine her options and she was met with her reflection.

But no. It’s a copy of herself, sitting on the other side of the water. Rey's immediately put in mind of the copies of herself in the cave on Ahch-To, leading her. 

This copy was different. For starters, it was not an exact copy. It wasn’t wearing the same clothes Rey herself had on. It wore the outfit that Rey had put together to go meet Ben on the _Supremacy_. She looked good, Rey couldn't help but think. It was a good outfit, even if it was darker than what she usually preferred. Chewbacca had been right, the blue wrap was a nice touch.

Rey turned to the right, her copy turned too, mirroring her. She raised her hand, slowly and the copy raised the hand opposite. She reached out and their fingertips brushed. It felt real.

With a groan Rey dropped her head into her hands. Why did the Force insist on trying to frighten her with herself? Actually, she knew. Was she still so afraid of being alone? Would there ever be a time where she wasn’t?

“You’re not alone.”

Rey jerked her head up and looked around. That was Ben’s voice! But she had shielded herself against the bond and no one was there but her.

She turned to the other Rey.

“Was that you?” She asked, incredulously.

“And if you strike my voice down,” the Rey copy said in a feminine voice that was distinctly not Rey’s. “Know that a chorus of thousands shall rise up in its place."

“So you speak?” Rey asked. “Sort of.”

“The ability to speak does not make you intelligent,” the copy said, this time in a man’s voice, gruff with annoyance.

“Heh,” Rey said, with a smile. Her copy smiled too. “Good one. Are you here to guide me to a kyber crystal?”

“The strongest stars have hearts of kyber,” a different male voice said. It seemed to mirror her facial expressions but was unable or unwilling to use her voice.

“Is that a yes or…”

“I am one with the Force,” Rey thought this was the same voice but she assumed that the speaker didn’t matter so much as what was being said. Since she hadn’t recognized most of the voices. “The Force is with me.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe'. So you are the Force?”

“From a certain point of view.”

“Oh that’s definitely Obi-Wan,” Rey pointed at the other, delightedly, and was pointed at in return. “That’s a very Obi-Wan thing to say.”

It was a bit disconcerting to watch all of these voices come from her mouth but also a bit comical.

So she had a direct channel to the Force. What did she want to ask?

“Will Ben and I be able to go back to our own time?”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” This voice was jarring for Rey to hear come out of her own mouth. It was deep and mechanized.

“Was that Darth Vader?” She asked, unsettled.

The Rey copy did not speak.

“So there are things you won’t answer,” Rey mused.

Again, the Rey copy said nothing. Just stared at Rey with her own quizzical expression.

“Would my parents have come back for me if they could have?”

“Whomever you’re waiting for on Jakku. They’re never coming back.”

It hurt less to hear it the second time.

“I knew the answer to that,” Rey sighed, trying to put it behind her. To move on to more important matters. “Did I really drag Ben here, like the Jedi claim?”

“Darkness rises and light to meet it.”

Rey cringed.

“Please don’t use Snoke’s voice.”

“Powerful light. Powerful darkness,” it amended. Rey took this as a sort of apology.

“So he was meant to come with me.”

This time Rey’s own voice said: “Balance.”

“I don’t feel balanced,” Rey admitted. “What am I supposed to do with these feelings I have for him? The Jedi say it’s wrong. What do I do about this bond?”

“Attachment is forbidden,” Rey recognized this voice, low and soft and pleasant. Although she’d never heard Anakin say those words. “Possession is forbidden. Compassion—which I would define as…unconditional love—is essential to a Jedi's life. So, you might say that we are encouraged to love.”

Rey shook her head. “That was Anakin, though. I’m not sure he understands it either.”

“You love me?” This was said with Anakin’s voice again. “I thought we had decided not to fall in love…that we would be forced to live a lie…and that it would destroy our lives.”

“Fine,” Rey relented, crossing her arms. That last one had hit a bit too close to home for her liking. “So Anakin understands. But when Ben and I are back in our time he is my enemy.”

“That’s how we’re gonna win,” Rose’s voice said. “Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love.”

Rey took a moment to process this.

“How do I know it’s right?” She asked, finally. “How do I know that the bond didn’t force us into this feeling? That it wasn’t forced on us?”

“What does your heart tell you?” Rey didn't recognize this voice but the words brought tears to her eyes.

“Snoke didn’t make the bond. Ben and I made it,” She said, with wonder. “We made it for us. So we never had to be alone again.”

The copy smiled at Rey, pleased, and faded away. Rey wiped stray tears off of her face and when her eyes were clear she noticed a faint purple glow coming from the water inside the pool. Rey leaned over to look. Two kyber crystals wait inside, glowing the most striking violet.

Rey took off a glove and dipped her bare hand into the water to retrieve the crystals. They were warm to the touch.

Holding her very own kyber crystals in her hand she decided that it was time to open the bond. She felt Ben immediately. He was anxious about something. She didn't disturb him. It was enough to know he was there; within reach. It’s enough to be certain that— despite what any Jedi might say—she was allowed to enjoy this connection. To find peace and comfort in it.

Her friends might be hard to persuade but she would deal with that when the time came. She had a good feeling that Ben would be at her side. One way or another.

After putting her crystals safely away in a zippered pocket of her parka, Rey made it out of the round room and through the labyrinth in a sort of daze. She was so happy and she had found two crystals—what she’d even do with two she couldn't fathom—and Ben was safe and they could be together. The Force said it was okay.

Obi-Wan was within view. The sun was dipping low on the horizon. Rey began to jog, she'd made it out of the cave before sundown! She did it!

Ben materialized out of nowhere—the bond overtaking them as it usually did, suddenly and without warning—Rey slowed to look. He had his saber out and ignited, for some reason. He was facing someone, his face marred by a snarl.

“You’ll have to kill me then!” he yelled, his voice disgusted. “I will not kneel.”

“Ben!” Rey called. Foolishly, she realized as Ben—who hadn’t noticed the connection activating—turned at her call. His expression—so fierce before—turned fearful at her call. She couldn't see his opponent but while she was turned to her—their eyes locking in horror—he was ambushed by bright blue lightning.

Rey dropped to the ground, her body rigid with the sensation of current running through her. She thrashed in the snow, convulsing even as her muscles tighten against the movement.

“Rey!”

She could feel the moment that the connection between she and Ben went dead because the onslaught of pain stopped abruptly, leaving her extremities numb and tingling.

“Rey!” Obi-Wan crashed into the snow beside her, his voice pinched with worry. “What’s wrong?”

She was still twitching with the aftereffects and unable to move, as if she’d been hit with a blaster set to stun.

“Ben,” she tried to say, but her tongue was slow and sluggish.

“I’m taking you to the ship. We need to leave and get you medical attention.”

Rey ignored him—he’d do what he had to without her input—and closed her eyes, trying to reconnect with Ben before she lost consciousness and failing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does space travel even work? How long does it take? What is the time relative to Coruscant? I've no fuckin' clue. I'm guessing here. 
> 
> Next chapter we'll be back with Ben and Padme. I promise.


	18. let him who thinks he knows no fear look well upon my face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since everyone has been so nice about the cliffhangers I decided to put this chapter up a little early. 
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Werewolf Gimmick" by The Mountain Goats.

Palpatine stood in the doorway with cold malice in his eyes and dread sank through every inch of Ben, taking root.

This was his fault. He foolishly showed his hand to Palpatine and ran before he could be confronted. Now he would suffer the consequences with Padme in the midst of his recklessness. He was not better than Anakin. This time he would be the one to get Padme killed.

“Chancellor,” Padme said with reproach, raising her chin. “This is a private discussion. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ben looked at his grandmother dubiously. Did she not know the danger they were in? Still? Did he really have to spell it out for everyone?

No. Her hands were on her waist and she was glaring at Palpatine with self-righteous indignation, but Ben could feel the tendrils of fear that spilled from her into the Force. Padme wasn’t oblivious, he shouldn’t underestimate her.

“I’m afraid that this cannot wait any longer,” Palpatine said, regretfully. “Your friend has made a nuisance of himself.”

“I am aware that you have officially revoked Ben’s access to the building,” Padme said, her voice steely. “I apologize for ignoring your wishes—but he is my guest here, tonight. I bear responsibility for bringing him here.”

“No—” Ben started but his grandmother shushed him.

Palpatine smiled genially at them. “You are too kind-hearted, Padme Naberrie.”

Padme stiffened but said nothing.

“You always were,” Palpatine continued. “I can tell you with honesty that I wish your role in all of this could be different but I’ve made my peace with the necessity of circumstances as they are.”

Quick as a flash Padme pulled out a blaster that Ben hadn’t known she had, it was a small thing, easily concealable. She pointed it at Palpatine, her aim, steady.

“Apologies, Chancellor, but I can’t shake the feeling that you’re threatening us.”

“Now, Padme,” Palpatine chided. He waved a hand and Padme’s blaster flew out of her grip and sailed across the room to land in Palpatine’s outstretched palm. “We will have none of that.”

Padme’s eyes widened. “You—“ Padme sputtered, shocked. She threw a glance at Ben. The fear in her eyes told him that she understood fully now, why Ben did not trust the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. “You’re a Sith.”

“I am a public servant,” Palpatine admonished, pocketing the confiscated blaster. “My interests lie in bettering the Republic.” He spread his hands out, empty palms open in appeal. “Can you blame me for using whatever talents I possess toward that end? Could you say you would not do the same?”

Ben wanted to tell her that it was a lie. That the Sith—that the dark side—didn’t strive for the good of the whole. It was a selfish, seductive tar trap. He wanted to tell her that this was all a manipulation. But…

But if believing it kept her safe?

“But the war,” Padme said, shaking her head. “You’ve been keeping us at war with each other!”

“A necessary evil,” Palpatine argued. “To unify the galaxy under a common good.”

“And what common good is that?” Padme asked.

Palpatine smiled. “Why don’t you wait and see?”

Padme took a step back.

“Now, Padme,” Palpatine chided, upon seeing the reaction. “Be reasonable. Conviction is important and you’ve always had it in spades. However, you can’t just think of yourself anymore.” Palpatine looked pointedly to Padme’s stomach, his meaning as obvious as the bump under her tunic.

Padme hesitated, her face pinched and worried.

“Go home, Padme,” the Sith Lord urged. “Solo and I have much to discuss, but you needn’t be involved now.”

Padme looked at Ben and back to Palpatine.

“No—”

Ben grasped her shoulders and turned her until they were facing each other, Palpatine in his periphery.

“Please go,” Ben pleaded.

Padme, Ben was amazed to see, wasn’t afraid anymore. She had fury burning in her eyes. “I won’t leave you,” she declared.

In that moment, in the face of his grandmother’s resolve, his admiration for her soared to terrifying heights. That was it. Ben loved her. They’d both die here.

No. It couldn't end like this. Ben wouldn’t let it end like this.

“Alright. You can stay.” Ben waved his hand in front of Padme’s face. Padme swayed on her feet; her eyelids drooping. She fought it, he could tell.

“Bastard,” she cursed him, her voice sluggish, before falling asleep on her feet. He caught her in his arms when her knees gave out.

Keeping an eye on Palpatine, Ben lowered her to the floor, trying to place her as out of the way as possible without turning his back on the Sith Lord. He took off his outer robe and pillowed it underneath her head. She wouldn’t be comfortable, but at least she might not develop a crick in her neck.

“There’s no need to involve her in this,” Ben said when Padme as safely tucked out of the way.

Palpatine looked at him with contempt. “She is already involved in this.”

Ben swallowed down his fear for his grandmother. “I can make it so she doesn’t remember seeing you tonight,” he offered, desperately. “I can make it so she believes she fell asleep here, waiting for me.”

Ben had never actually tampered with someone’s memories that way but he’d never asked himself if he could do something with the Force before. He either managed to do it or not. There was never a question. He would do this to Padme, if it would ultimately keep her safe from Palpatine.

Palpatine regarded him critically. He couldn't know what Palpatine is thinking—couldn't conceive the game he was playing. Snoke would have already dismissed the suggestion. Would already have mocked Ben for his weakness.

“She’s a loose thread,” Palpatine said, finally. “She’s always been a loose thread. She always will be. She simply cannot be allowed to live.”

“You told her to go.”

Palpatine shrugged. “If she had chosen differently—chosen to leave you, an ally, behind to face danger alone—I would have allowed her to live. Alas, it is pointless to get tangled up in hypotheticals. She would never have left. It’s not in her nature.”

“Why does that mean she has to die?” What hand had Palpatine played in Padme’s fate in the original timeline?

“She is antithetical.”

Like the Jedi, Ben assumed. Antithetical to Palpatine’s plans and therefore, an adversary to be eliminated.

“However,” Palpatine continued in Ben’s silence. “I think you’ve misunderstood my intentions tonight. You may be powerful with the Force, but you lack the intellect necessary to be a match to me.” He sounded almost disappointed.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to tamper with her memory—provided you could actually pull that off without doing irreparable damage to Padme’s mind, I have my doubts about your ability to do so. Regardless, it doesn't matter if she saw me.”

“What?” Surely someone who had kept his identity a secret for so long, who had played such a long con with the galaxy, would be wary of anyone who guessed the extent of his evil designs? Surely Ben would be killed and Padme would be a casualty?

“Whatever you came here expecting to accomplish is inconsequential. Padme will leave here alive.”

“She will?”

“She’ll have to…for now; while I have a use for her. She will tell Anakin that I am the Sith Lord,” Palpatine explained. “What do you imagine he would do after that, with Kenobi gone? How well do you think you know him? Not very, if your clumsy efforts of alerting him to the truth was any indication.”

“I don’t understand,” Ben admitted.

“He has been so very worried for dear Padme. Did you think he would admit his sins to the Jedi? Oh no,” Palpatine chuckled. “If he thinks that I have the knowledge to save her, he will come to me—willingly. His descent into the dark side will be voluntary. He’ll be grateful for it.”

Grateful. To the dark side. Ben gritted his teeth against the anger rising in him at those words. Because of this man, who had targeted his grandfather—had turned him from a prideful, but ultimately good man into a monster that had lingered in the nightmares of generations to come—Ben’s whole family had been waiting for bad things to come for them. Bad things; like Ben. And here was the source of that infection boasting about it. Claiming that Anakin would be grateful for the sickness that had infected his descendants.

“Why Anakin Skywalker?”

“Why the concern?” Palpatine asked. He began slowly walking toward Ben, his steps measured. Ben shifted so that he was standing more fully in front of Padme. The movement did not escape Palpatine’s shrewd eyes. “You claim not to be a Jedi, yet you have spent a great deal of effort trying to maintain the balance within Anakin, for Padme’s sake. Failing, ultimately, but it’s the effort that confuses me.”

Palpatine stopped before Ben and narrowed his eyes at him. “Who are you, Ben Solo? Why did you come here? I’ve heard you speak to them, you know. A word here and there. You’ve known I was a Sith the entire time you were on Coruscant. But more than that, you speak about Padme’s child as if you personally know the man he will become. You are an anachronism, of a sort, aren’t you? To what purpose did you come here?"

Ben didn't think it would do him any good to try and act like he had no idea what Palpatine was talking about. “The Force wanted me here.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” Palpatine scoffed. “The Force does not act so favorably with those who align themselves with the dark side.”

“This seems favorable to you?”

Palpatine actually chuckled. “Fair enough,” he relented, amused. “It’s comforting, I must tell you, to be in the presence of someone who visceral understands the danger they are in. The danger _I_ present. I grow weary of the facade. Well, you are here. There’s nothing for it. Now, what to do with you,” Palpatine tapped his chin, as if considering it.

“I had hoped,” he continued. “When I sensed your power, that you would be a… tidier choice for an apprentice. You are already tainted by the dark side, after all, and you did kill my last apprentice. That was meant to be a test for Skywalker.”

Ben’s stomach roiled at the thought. “I’m not looking for another Master.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Palpatine chided, disapprovingly. “Shortly, I will be atop a vast empire. My apprentice will be my right hand. Did your last Master offer you such supremacy?"

Ben’s lips curled. He had been Supreme Leader. Snoke had died as a result of his hubris. Ben had seen to it.

“My last Master took everything from me.”

Palpatine smiled scornfully. “And I am offering you everything. Skywalker is powerful but he’s a chancy bet. Chaotic and soft hearted.”

Ben couldn’t help but think that those things described him best.

“He has plenty of fury and it burns, but ultimately his hatred is short lived,” Palpatine sighed. “He can stay a Jedi—they won’t be around for much longer. Padme can live, for now—I want to keep an eye on her children. You did say children, didn’t you?”

Ben cringed, shamefully. His being here hadn’t helped anything or anyone.

But Palpatine wasn’t finished yet.

“You can even keep the ill-mannered girl you’re fond of—she’d make a lovely Inquisitor.”

Ben had been wrong. There could be worse timelines than the one he and Rey had come from. A time where Palpatine had control of Luke and Leia and Rey?

That was too much for Ben. Baring his teeth, he unsheathed his saber. Igniting the weapon without ceremony, Ben recklessly charged at the Sith Lord.

* * *

Anakin came awake with a start. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. The apartment was still. The Force was cold and dark.

“Padme!” He called, lurching off of the sofa.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He stumbled to the bedroom, but the bed was empty.

“Padme!”

The heaviness in his limbs suggest that sleep hadn’t been his choice. He couldn't think about that now. He had to find his wife.

“Padme!”

He made his way to the balcony. The speeder was still on the landing pad where he had parked it earlier.

“I’m afraid that Mistress Padme left some time ago.” Anakin turned to see C-3PO coming out of the shadows, his ocular lens’ the only light in the room. “She had business to attend to—”

“Where did she go?”

“The Senate Dome, Mast—”

Anakin did not wait for the droid to finish before running for the speeder. C-3PO’s anxious exclamation of: “Oh dear,” following him out.

* * *

Palpatine was toying with him. If it wasn't clear from the way he cackled when Ben swung his saber at him, then was’s abundantly apparent in the loose way he held his own lightsaber—which he had pulled from the sleeve of his robes.

In Ben’s fight with Dooku, the old Masters’ adherence to form had been his downfall. Palpatine had no such pitfalls. The Sith Lord switched between forms with ease, all the while staying in the defensive and blocking Ben’s powerful swings without showing any signs of fatigue.

Suddenly, Palpatine used the Force to push Ben away from him. The power of the attack would have flung Ben across the room if he was not used to such assaults. Still, the precision was more than he had expected. It would tire him to nullify it fully so Ben let the Force push him across the room, this feet skidding across the floor. He blocked it only enough to keep himself from falling on top of an inert Padme. He was really regretting his hasty decision to put her to sleep.

“I've already won,” Palpatine declared as Ben worked to regain his footing. “But it doesn't have to end with your death. Kneel. Pledge yourself to my service and you will rise, an agent of my will.”

He said this as if it was a very reasonable thing to ask a person to do.

“Or?”

Palpatine lost his genial air, the mask dropping as he snarled at Ben “Don't. And suffer the consequences.”

Ben could feel the Force seeped through with the dark side, trying to suffocate him. He was afraid. But he was usually afraid. He did not kill Snoke only to be dragged back into the mire of the dark with Palpatine.

“You’ll have to kill me then!” He snarled, his voice dripping with the disgust he felt. He didn't feel righteous, resisting this offer. He was not tempted, at all. Palpatine was the mastermind that Snoke could have only dreamt of being. He had ruined generations because of his selfishness. “I will not kneel.”

“Ben!”

Instinctually, Ben turned toward the sound of Rey’s voice. For a wild moment, he’s overjoyed to hear her. She was standing to his left, her face pinched with worry. He hadn’t noticed her opening the bond. Before Ben could tell her to close it he was struck.

He’d been assaulted by Force lightening before, but never for this long. He fell to the floor as his muscles seized and convulsions overtook him, unable to scream and unable to focus enough to block the pain from Rey’s end of their connection.

* * *

For the second time in so many days Anakin followed the storm of Ben Solo’s Force signature through the Senate Dome, assuming he’d find Padme close to the source. It was roiling, as it always was when Ben was particularly worked up; an amalgamation of light and dark, unlike anything Anakin had ever felt before. Should Ben be able to call both sides of the Force at once like that? Jedi wisdom would say no.

Suddenly, the storm flickered.

Anakin felt a surge of panic, to feel such a strong presence blink in and out like that. What could possibly cause that? Panicked, he keyed a distress signal into his comm. He’d have to hold off whatever unpleasantness was going on for a while by himself before backup arrived. The prospect strangely more daunting than usual.

When Anakin finally made it to Padme’s office he was confused for a moment to see Palpatine, hastily shoving something up the sleeve of his robe.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Anakin,” Palpatine said. “You must help. Solo has taken Padme.”

Anakin blinked at Palatine, confused. That wasn’t right. Padme had taken herself, if the lingering drowsiness Anakin felt was any indication.

But Palpatine was gesturing farther into the office.

Anakin entered and motioned for Palpatine to stand back.

“Everything is alright now, Chancellor,” Anakin said, as soothingly as he could manage.

Wishing to be prepared for anything, Anakin activated his lightsaber as he made his way past Palpatine and into his wife’s office.

His gaze zoned in on Padme immediately, she was laying on the floor. Unconscious. Solo was crouched, low, on trembling legs in front of her.

“Kill him, Anakin! He’s too dangerous to be allowed to live!”

Automatically, Anakin raised his saber, despite his misgivings. Ben was hurt, covered in sweat and grime. Anakin could hear his ragged breaths as they came unsteadily from his lungs. And the way he was positioned in front of Padme, with his saber weakly raised and his arm trembling, bothered Anakin. It almost looked like he was protecting Padme…from Palpatine.

That couldn’t be right. It was more likely that Palpatine was heroically trying to rescue Padme from Ben. Ben, whose grandfather had killed Anakin’s wife.

Still, looking down at Ben, his saber raised to strike, Anakin was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu. Something about Ben’s face, his eyes, tickled Anakin’s memory.

“Anakin,” Ben pleaded, he was badly hurt, anyone could see that; barely holding on to consciousness, he was having trouble focusing on Anakin.

Suddenly it clicked. It was like Anakin was back in that Force forsaken place where those animals had tortured his mother. Where Anakin had found her, broken and bruised body. She hadn’t even had enough life left in her finish her final goodbye. She had looked at him with such broken hearted love.

That was how Ben was looking at him. Strangely enough, with his mother’s eyes.

As soon as Anakin had that wild thought he was overtaken by a vision—

 

He was small, looking up at another stranger with Shmi’s eyes. She was as beautiful as Padme, with a crown of dark hair. She radiated light unlike anyone Anakin had ever felt. She felt divine and her smile was like a benediction when it blossomed across her face. Anakin didn’t know her, but he wanted to.

Mother.

Anakin knew this woman wasn’t his mother but she looked similar. She had the same eyes. It felt right.

It felt right because in the vision he was small and she looked at him as a mother looked at her child: with love and fondness.

She reached out a hand to caress his dark hair out of his eyes.

“Would you like to sit with me, Ben?” She asked, jarring Anakin out of that vision and into another—

 

He was small, still, but bigger. He was standing before a man in Jedi robes. The man had sandy blonde hair and a cleft chin. The stern look he was giving him was unnatural in his twinkling blue eye. It was disorienting, looking at him, because he looked like Anakin, but different.

“You shouldn’t call me ‘uncle’ in front of the other Padawans, Ben,” the man chided.

The name was still a shock to Anakin, but he had expected it this time and was not rejected from the vision.

“It’s only fair that you call me ‘Master Skywalker’ like everyone else.”

Anakin felt revulsion at this, but he wasn’t sure if it was his emotion or what Ben had felt at the time. Still, he rode the revulsion as the scene changed again—

 

He was laying down. It was dark, except for the sickening green of the lightsaber held above him. Held by the man with the blue eyes, cleft chin now covered by a beard. There was a wild, terrible fear in his eyes as he looked down at Anakin—at Ben. Poised to strike.

Master Skywalker. Uncle—

 

The vision released him.

For a moment he was disoriented. He wasn’t the one lying below a lightsaber anymore, that was still Ben. But now Anakin was the one poised to strike. Seized by wild, terrible fear.

“What are you waiting for? Anakin strike him down!” Palpatine yelled, frantically from behind him.

Anakin was frozen.

“Anakin, please,” Ben said. He was barely conscious and blinked heavily at him. “You don’t understand.”

He didn't understand; didn't want to. His mind shied away from the implications of what he’d been shown, but it was staring him in the face. In the form of those dark, brown eyes. Eyes Ben had gotten from his mother. Eyes that looked just like Anakin’s mother’s.

Could he watch the light fade out of Shmi’s eyes again?

Anakin turned off his lightsaber.

“I will not kill him, Chancellor,” he said, unable to look away from Ben. From those eyes. His mother had sent him to become a Jedi. “It is not the Jedi way.”

“Anakin be reasonable!” Palpatine cried, laying a hand on Anakin’s shoulder and forcing Anakin to look at him. “Look what he’s done to Padme!”

“It is not the Jedi way,” Anakin repeated. He would hold Ben here until more Jedi arrived. Which wouldn't be difficult, as Ben finally lost his battle with consciousness, his large body collapsing to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Anakin kept his eyes trained on him, just in case. He’d lost consciousness suspiciously close to Padme for Anakin to drop his guard.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Palpatine snarled. “We could have been rid of this fiend!”

“If he has done wrong, he will stand trial,” Anakin said. “But there has to be evidence.”

Padme had been right, there had to be evidence before someone was punished. There had not been any evidence against Ahsoka before she was nearly executed. This thought roiled in Anakin’s gut.

“Wanton execution is not justice,” he said with finality.

“Evidence, Anakin, look around you.” Palpatine gestured to the ruined office. To the overturned furniture and lightsaber scorch marks on the walls.

Anakin looked, but what he saw wasn't evidence against Ben.

What he saw were two unconscious, vulnerable people. One of whom he loved, who would be disgusted with him if he killed an unconscious man.

What he saw was the murder still in Palpatine’s eyes. Did he honestly expect Anakin to kill Ben while he was unconscious?

What he saw was Padme’s head pillowed with care on black robes: Ben’s robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't anticlimactic, I tend to gloss over action scenes and focus more on emotional/psychological stuff. It's something I'll have to work on in the future.
> 
> And yes, I know that, realistically, Ben would have lost consciousness immediately after being essentially struck by lightening. But, you know, Luke would have too in ROTJ. It's called plot armour...or Palpatine has some low wattage skills.


	19. i tried to summon up a little prayer as i went under. it was the best that i could do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is taken from the song "In Corolla" by The Mountain Goats.

Rey came awake with a cry.

This caused Obi-Wan, who had been leaning over her with one of her wrists held lightly between his fingers as he checked her pulse, to yell in surprise; dropping her wrist and falling back.

“I suppose you’re alive,” he said, clutching his chest.

“Where are we?” Rey demanded, levering herself up on her elbows with difficulty. The muscles of her arms shook with the effort.

Rey looked around. They are on board the ship and Obi-Wan had placed her on the lower bunk in the crew quarters.

“How long was I out?”

Obi-Wan stared at her incredulously. “I only just got you onboard. We’re still on Ilum.”

Panic seized her at his words and Rey pushed herself up and off of the bunk. She needed to get to the cockpit and transmit an urgent message to the Jedi Temple. Ben needed help!

Her limbs did not get the message from her panicked brain, however. She ended up launching herself onto the floor beside Obi-Wan because of her numb and uncooperative legs.

“No,” Rey cursed. “No, no. I have to get help.”

“Rey, let me help you.” Obi-Wan said soothingly as he moved to crouch beside her. She felt the comforting weight of a hand on her shoulder. His concern for her would be appreciated if she weren't in the clutches of panic.

“Either help me transmit a message or get away from me!” She shouted, swatting him away.

“Something is wrong,” Obi-Wan observed.

“Yes!” She turned as much as she could, to look at Obi-Wan, pleased that he was starting to grasp the urgency. “He’s made his move! We have to act. We’re already too late.”

For some reason Obi-Wan was looking at her sadly. “I meant you’re hurt. What happened?”

What happened? Wasn’t it obvious? Rey realized with dread that Obi-Wan hadn’t seen what she saw, how could he have? He felt none of the urgency that had seized her.

“Ben is in danger! The Sith—”

“The Sith?”

“He’s going to kill Ben!" Rey cried in exacerbation. “He’s going to send his clone army to hunt the Jedi down! I shouldn’t have left Coruscant!” It didn't bring her any peace to acknowledge this now. She’d known for hours that she needed to go back. The Force had tried to warn her. They had been brought here together. They needed each other to bring balance to this age. “I shouldn’t have left Ben to handle this alone.”

“Rey,” Obi-Wan said her name tenderly, compassionately. But in his eyes, she saw pity. “This is the effect of the cave. It’s showing you your fears.”

“I wasn’t _in the cave!_ ” Rey snapped, her voice cracking. “This is our bond! Showing me that Ben needs my help!”

“You bond? That’s impossible,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “A training bond could not cover this distance—”

“It isn’t a training bond!” For once, Rey wished that he would just believer her. Not waste time arguing. But for Obi-Wan to do that, she needed to give him something he couldn’t argue with.

“I lied!” She continued with a wail. “It’s a connection! I’m hurt because _Ben is hurt_ —He’s hurt so much worse than this! Please, Obi-Wan. Help me. You’re my only hope.”

“You mean to tell me you saw Ben with your bond? That you felt his pain?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice worryingly devoid on any inflection, any emotion. “This level of connection is beyond dangerous. I must caution you agains—”

“Listen to me!” Rey interrupted in exasperation. “We have to get word to Coruscant _NOW_! The Empire is forming! Everyone there is in danger! All of the Jedi are in danger!”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“The Empire? Rey, listen to yourself. If what you say about your attachment to Ben is true, then it’s for the best that we stay away from Coruscant and Ben Solo until we can find a _proper_ way to free you of this.” This being said, Obi-Wan stood and gathered up the emergency blanket that she had, presumably, knocked to the floor when she’d vaulted from the bunk. “I honestly think it is safer to keep you in an active war front,” she heared him murmur.

Rey could feel the tears of frustration begin to coarse down her cheeks. Ben and the whole Jedi Order were in danger and Obi-Wan was going to lecture her about attachments?

“This isn’t a war front,” she told him. “This is a costly distraction! The war is on Coruscant! At the Jedi’s front door!”

Obi-Wan glanced at her from over his shoulder. “But to suggest an Empire—”

“What do you _think_ happened?” Rey spat, she could hear the fury in her voice and from the way Obi-Wan stopped his puttering and gave his full attention back to her, he heard it too. “You think the Jedi just _let_ the war go on for FIFTY YEARS? You think they—What? Got a taste for bloodshed? The Jedi are _eradicated_! Gunned down by the clone army.”

“No clone would ever—”

“It’s what they were _designed for!”_ Rey spat. “To be manipulated. There’s a chip in their heads that the Chancellor— “

“The Chancellor?” Obi-Wan balked and Rey was done playing coy with the Jedi Order. She didn't care what Master Yoda thought. He was not here. He was on Coruscant. Not helping anyone.

“Obi-Wan, _Palpatine is the Sith Lord_ and he is on Coruscant with _everyone we love!”_ Rey yelled, baring her teeth at him. “Help me!”

What if their presence had expedited Palpatine's plans?

Obi-Wan stared at her, shocked, for a long, silent moment. Rey didn't have any more time to give him so that he could process this. She’d already wasted too much time trying to persuade him into helping her. So she began to crawl to the cockpit while he thought, rolling onto her stomach and using her weak arms to pull her body toward the cockpit.

“I have to check on Anakin.”

Obi-Wan jumped over Rey where she struggled on the cold, dirty floor, turning a corner and disappearing into the ship.

“Anakin?!” she screamed in disbelief. “Who cares about him right now? Ben needs help! He’s in danger!”

 Frantically, Rey started crawling again, using every small shred of feeling that she had in her arms to pull her body forward. Obi-Wan’s priorities were too skewed to handle this properly.

As Rey worked to get into the cockpit she heard the crackling of the comm trying to find frequency.

“Who are you transmitting to?” She called. She hoped it wasn’t Yoda. If Ben was in this much danger then the Grand Master of the Jedi Order must not have heeded his warning. Ben must have failed to get through to him.

“Mace!”

Rey supposed that was the better option.

“Now’s not a good time, Kenobi.” Rey heard Master Windu’s voice, tinny from the transmission, but terse.

“What’s wrong?” She heard Obi-Wan ask. “Is Anakin alright?”

There was a heavy silence from the direction of the cockpit. Rey had finally gotten close enough to see part of Master Windu’s face, cast in blue holo and giving Obi-Wan a skeptical frown.

“Skywalker sent a distress beacon from the Senate Dome a few moments ago,” Master Windu finally told him. “I’m on my way now.”

Rey watched as Obi-Wan’s shoulders tensed and he leaned on the console for support. “I have reason to believe that Ben Solo may be there as well,” he said. “And is in considerable danger.”

Oh, bless his sad, Anakin-loving heart. She’d never have an unkind thought about the man again.

If anything, this information made Master Windu look annoyed. “I don’t have time for an explanation now, but know that I expect one.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head to the holo of his fellow master. “Of course, just be careful.”

Wait, wasn’t he going to tell him the most important part? Oh Force. Couldn’t she trust him with anything?

“PALPATINE IS A SITH!” Rey screamed, hoping against hope that the transmission would pick it up and get the message to Master Windu. He’d need to know.

“Was that Rey?” Master Windu asked, taken aback.

Obi-Wan turned his head to give her an unearned look of disapproval. “I was going to tell him,” he said. “There’s no need to yell.”

“You were not!”

“Kenobi,” Master Windu growled. “What’s going on?”

With a sigh, Obi-Wan turned back to the holo. “I’ll explain later. But Rey claims that Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord. If he is in the Senate Dome, be on your guard, Mace. If this is true he’s been hiding under our noses for decades.”

Mace gave a terse nod. “I will, Obi-Wan. And thank you, Rey.”

“May the force be with you,” Rey answered, but Master Windu had already signed off.

Rey felt marginally better about the situation. She still wished she were there.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily.

“I suppose we have a lot to discuss before Mace comms back.” He turned to look at her. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

“We need to get to Coruscant. Ben will need our help.”

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile. “I’m afraid that even Jedi can’t travel that fast. We’ll have to put our faith in Master Windu, for now.” Obi-Wan frowned down at her. “But we must get you up from the floor. It’s not hygienic.”

Rey allowed Obi-Wan to lift her with the Force and float her back to the crew quarters, where he laid her down gently.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

The bunk was more comfortable than Rey had expected and now that she was calmer and the panic was fading away in the face of a long ride back, her eyes were heavy.

“You’re very welcome, Rey,” Obi-Wan answered, his voice kind. He hovered near her for a moment, uncertainly. “Will you tell me about the Clones?”

Rey thought about it for a second. “Sounds like a discussion for hyperspace.”

“Of course.”

Obi-Wan walked back into the cockpit and Rey could hear the tell-tale beeps and hums of the ship preparing for takeoff. Rey closed her eyes for just a minute… And wrenched them open when Obi-Wan lay something overtop of her. Rey looked, it was his outer robe. The temperature inside the ship had risen marginally, but it was still cold, they must be away from Ilum and in hyperspace. The makeshift blanket was warm.

When he saw that she was awake Obi-Wan handed her a ration bar. She hadn’t meant to doze, but her cat nap had only proven to make her feel the full effects of her exhaustion now that her prevailing panic had abandoned her to be replaced by a more manageable all-consuming worry.

“It’s not much but you should eat something to get your strength back,” Obi-Wan said, politely looking away as she devoured the bar.

He was right, it wasn’t much but the weight in her stomach was a comfort that, if anything, made her more tired. She knew Obi-Wan wanted to discuss this further, and she understood the necessity of it. But she was losing the battle with her heavy eyelids. Besides, she’d have to be rested when they made it back to Ben. Force only knew what they would come back to.

Still, exhaustion or no, she’d promised Obi-Wan that they would talk when in hyperspace. Rey tried to sit up. Maybe if she was upright she could stay awake.

“The clones—” She started but Obi-Wan pushed her gently back down onto the bunk.

“You should rest now. There will be time for details later. I’ll wake you when we reach our destination.”

Rey didn’t argue, but there was something he needed to know first. “It’s not their fault.”

Obi-Wan looked sadly at her.

“I never thought it was. Rest, Rey. We will talk later.”

With nothing else to do, Rey settled back onto the cushion. She gave a cursory poke at Ben’s end of the bond, but it was distressingly silent.

Still, Obi-Wan was correct, as much as she wanted to be there to help Ben, she couldn’t teleport. Even if she tried a stunt like Luke had pulled on Crait she’d only be able to provide minimal support. And she’d die. She’d prefer not to do that pointlessly. She’d have to trust Master Windu and the other Jedi to help Ben out of whatever tight spot he’d gotten himself into. She’d rest and be ready to fight Palpatine when she woke.

She purposely didn’t think of the two kyber crystals in her pocket there were very much _not_ a lightsaber by themselves as she gave into sleep.

* * *

Obi-Wan dropped out of hyperspace several parsecs away from the planet. He hoped that the change in motion wouldn't wake Rey just yet. He wished to talk with Mace again before making planetfall.

The other Jedi must have been awaiting Obi-Wan’s transmission because he responded quickly.

“Status, Kenobi?” Mace asked as the holo connected.

Obi-Wan raised a brow. “I rather think I should be asking you that. What did you find at the Senate Dome?”

“A mess,” Mace declared, rubbing his temple in frustration. “Skywalker and the Chancellor are fine, medically speaking. However, both Solo and Senator Amidala are unconscious, in varying degrees of medical distress.”

“Still?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help the surprise that crept into his voice. Hyperspace was fast but it still took several hours to get from Ilum to his current location.

“I said it was a mess.”

Obi-Wan considered this. As much as he worried for Padme’s health--and Ben Solo’s, if only for Rey’s sake--he needed to talk to Mace about other matters before Rey woke and started the fight they were sure to have. He pushed his concern into the Force for the time being.

“Send me Solo's medical diagnosis, if you can. Rey will want to know.”

Mace raised a skeptical brow at him. “Is that legal?

Strictly speaking? Not likely. “She's as close to family as he's got,” Obi-Wan argued anyway.

“As far as we know,” Mace murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Mace said, shaking his head. “I'll send you the files. You should know...Palpatine has Solo under guard.”

This took Obi-Wan by surprise. “Whatever for?”

“The story Palpatine is telling is that Solo kidnapped Amidala. He claims that Skywalker came to him earlier in the day to try and warn him that Solo was a threat to Amidala but…“

“But?”

Mace crossed his arms. “Skywalker seemed reluctant to confirm it.”

“Curious. Usually, when Anakin is proven right he is insufferable about it.”

“He is acting strangely,” Mace said.

That was worrying.

“Do you think there is any validity to Rey’s claim?”

Mace took a moment to choose his words carefully. “I think we’ve been suspicious of Palpatine’s inner circle for a while,” he said, finally. “ _If_ he is the Sith Lord his temperament goes against everything we believed a Sith’s to be. He’s meticulous and patient. However, he _is_ the most powerful being in the known galaxy…he’s made sure of that.”

“A lust for power is very Sith-like,” Obi-Wan mused.

“Unfortunately, we have no evidence,” Mace reminded him. “Until we do, we can’t act. It’d be disastrous for the Jedi Order.”

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “According to Rey, if we _don’t_ act it will be disastrous for the Jedi Order.”

“Hmm. Solo tried to issue a similar waning.”

“Tried?”

Mace hesitated. “Master Yoda decided we would not listen.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought. “Do you think that is…prudent? Considering the circumstances.”

Mace leveled him with a stern stare for a hologram. “Master Yoda is the oldest and wisest of the entire Jedi Order. That being said, I’d like the Republic not to fall.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan sighed. “I’d very much like to not witness the eradication of the Jedi Order, myself.”

Mace’s expression didn’t change but he stared, silently for a moment, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? There must be some kind of interference. It sounded like you said ‘eradication’.”

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan said mildly. “Rey was very clear on that.”

Mace looked stricken. “Very clear? How clear is very clear?”

“She used the phrases ‘kill switch’ and ‘gunning down Jedi’. So…crystal clear?”

“Great,” Mace said, his voice thin. “What are we going to do about that?”

Obi-Wan had been thinking about that himself. “Do you remember what happened to Master Tiplar?”

“How could I forget?” Mace asked with discomfort. “You’re not thinking…”

“Unfortunately, I am. It fits with Rey’s claims. One of the clone troopers assigned to Master Tiplar’s mission was part of the 501st. So I thought I’d talk to Captain Rex and see if he can tell me anything.”

Mace nodded. “That’s a good idea. You see what you can do for the clones and I’ll see what I can do here.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes wandered away from the holo of his friend and colleague and down to the planet that filled the viewport of the shuttle. It wouldn't be long before his craft drifted into range of the Republic Star Cruisers that monitored all travel to and from the planet. They were under siege, after all.

He had never wanted to set foot on Mandalore again, but this had never been about Obi-Wan.

“Understood,” he sighed, his heart heavy with an old regret and a fresh grief that never seemed to dissolve into the Force the way it should. “Oh, and Mace?” He looked back to the holo, responsibilities taking precedent.

“Yes?”

“Do keep an eye on Anakin. His friendship with Palpatine seemed off to me before but now…”

Mace's expression was grave as Obi-Wan trailed off. “I had the same thought,” he admitted. “I’ll do what I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Didn't watch the Clone Wars or just need a refresher on Master Tiplar?](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tiplar)


	20. like the nagging flash of insight you're always desperate to avoid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from the song "Spent Gladiators 2" by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> Also, I meant to say in the last chapter's notes that I will be doing one chapter of Rey and Obi, followed by a chapter of Ani, Padme or Ben. This will likely be the structure until they are all on the same planet once again. This way, it's more obvious that events are happening concurrently.

The staff at Coruscant Medical would not allow Anakin to sit at Padme’s bedside. It wasn’t permitted. Only family, they had said.

Part of Anakin wanted to grab the doctor who was assigned to Padme and shake the being. “I’m her husband!” He wanted to scream. But how could he prove it? They had married under fake names—Veré and Set—for all intents and purposes their marriage was more symbolic than legal.

That didn’t make it less real.

The other part of Anakin, well…

She was fine. They told him that much. She was asleep. They wanted her to wake naturally since they weren’t sure _why_ she was sleeping so soundly. Didn’t want to force it unless they had to.

To Anakin it looked as though she’d been willed asleep with the Force. All evidence indicated this was Ben’s doing. But why? What had happened in Padme’s office before Anakin had gotten there? Anakin thought he had an idea, but he didn’t like it. There wasn’t much he liked right then.

Ben.

Anakin had seen through his eyes in that vision and it had seemed like—

But that meant—

And Anakin—

Anakin still couldn’t bring himself to think about it.

He dropped his head in his hands as he waited. He’d been sitting in the Medcenter’s waiting room for several hours. He was surrounded by similarly despondent beings. He liked to think the reasons for his heavy heart were worse than theirs.

“Anakin?”

Anakin’s head shot up at the familiar voice and sure enough, there was Palpatine, frowning at him from across the room, clearly having spotted Anakin on his way out.

Anakin swallowed back unease. He wasn’t ready for this.

“What are you doing out here?” Palpatine asked, leaving his personal guard behind and picking his way through the maze of beings in uncomfortable plastoid chairs toward Anakin. There were a few stares, a few whispers but he wasn’t impeded. “I thought you’d be with Padme.”

Palpatine looked so concerned. He always did.

But Ben had said he couldn’t be trusted. And Ben was—

Which made Anakin—

“They won’t let me in.” His voice sounded ragged to his own ears. He needed to pull himself together. Still, they were probably right to keep Padme away from him. If he was—

“Who?” Palpatine asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Anakin gestured wordlessly to the various medical staff and droids roaming around. Palpatine sighed, as if disappointed. Slowly, he sat beside Anakin in one of the stiff plastoid chairs.

“My boy,” Palpatine said with another, heavier sigh. “I want to tell you that I know Padme is expecting.”

The words themselves should not have filled Anakin with such fear. He had expected this, after all. When he thought that it was Ben who was out to harm his family. So why were his hands shaking?

“And I know that it is _not the Jedi way_ ,” Palpatine continued. “But after tonight’s events, I don’t think I need to tell you that you are going to have to be stronger than this for their sake. They are...so vulnerable. It will fall to you, as the father, to make difficult decisions. For the safety of your family, of course. They will need your strength.”

It was almost frightening, how much sense this made to Anakin. He _would_ have to be stronger. He _would_ have to make difficult decisions.

And he was fairly certain he knew what Palpatine wanted to hear.

“Where is Solo?” He asked.

Palpatine eyed him critically before saying: “Six floors up, under watch by members of my personal guard. They can be…persuaded to leave their post by the right person.”

Anakin rubbed his face, Palpatine’s implication clear.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Anakin admitted. “Thank you for your faith in me.”

Palpatine smiled, pleased. “See to it you do not make the same mistake twice,” he advised. With that, Palpatine rose and left Anakin to his own devices.

* * *

Anakin could have used the Force to talk his way into the patient wing of the Medcenter all along but such techniques were reserved for emergencies—life or death situations—but Palpatine had given him permission. And in a way, this was life or death.

Palpatine was correct, the guards in red at Ben’s doorways, were easy to persuade to leave their post. A simple mind trick was all it took and they thought their relief had come, shift thus over, they walked away, down the hallway and out of sight.

Anakin let himself into the room. It was bare, a cabinet, a sink, and a door on the adjacent wall that presumably led to a ‘fresher. The bed was surrounded by privacy screens which took up most of the room.

Anakin peeked through one and—Ben was still unconscious. He lay inert on the bed but his chest rose and fell with regular breaths and the machines that had been placed to monitor his vitals looked good—or, at least they beeped with even intervals and something was giving off a low, rhythmic hum that sounded familiar.

Anakin let himself into the flimsy enclosure that the screens created around the bed. Slowly, he reached into his robes and pulled out a lightsaber.

And then thought better of it and put it back.

He’d picked up Ben’s saber in all of the confusion back in Padme’s office and he’d kept it, hidden amongst his robes. He’d intended to give it back, but he couldn’t leave it while Ben was unconscious. He wasn't sure what was going on—hadn’t even begun to come to terms with what he _thought_ was going on—but he did not want to be responsible for messing things up more than he had. Leaving a lightsaber unattended seemed irresponsible.

What was he going to do? There was no way he could actually go through with what Palpatine intended him to do. He’d never really considered it. He just needed space to think. To consider what he’d been shown.

With a sigh Anakin rubbed his face. It had been a long day—two long days…or several, really. His head was throbbing, his face was marred by bruises from where Ben had hit him, and the only sleep he had gotten was tainted by the drug that Padme had slipped into his tea. He needed real sleep, and a shower, and food. He needed Ben to wake up and tell him that he was _wrong_. That the visions were _wrong_. That Anakin couldn’t have killed—

He looked to the bed.

Ben Solo.

Who gave him a name like ‘Solo’. It sounded like a fake that some spacer used. Surely the woman from Anakin’s vision would not associate with scoundrels.

It could be a fake but Ben wore it so well.

Anakin walked closer to the bed and crouched down, staring at Ben’s face intently. He looked younger when he was his face was still. Anakin realized that he had no idea how old Ben was. It hadn’t mattered before. But if Ben was his future grandchild—

If Ben really was related to Anakin surely he inherited something recognizable, other than Shmi’s eyes. Anakin studied Ben’s profile intently.

That nose definitely came from a mystery ‘Solo’ source. The ears too.

His size could be a Skywalker trait. Anakin and his mother were both tall, but it was difficult to say.

His hair could be from Shmi. It was dark like hers. It looked thick, too.

Most of this was speculation and didn’t prove that they were related. Part of Anakin hoped it wasn’t true. Because if Ben was Anakin’s grandson but he was also the grandson of—

Anakin skittered away from the thought once again. One impossible truth at a time.

Something on Ben’s face caught Anakin’s eye. Anakin leaned closer to inspect it.

Huh.

Ben had Padme’s moles.

“Care to tell me what you think you’re doing, Skywalker?”

Anakin yelped and fell on his backside, casting around for the intruder until his gaze landed on Master Windu. The Jedi Master had pulled back the privacy screen on the side of the bed opposite Anakin and was looking down at him with distaste.

“What are you doing here?” Anakin exclaimed. For Forces’ sake, he hadn’t even heard the door open.

“That is not the issue at hand,” Mace informed him. “And keep your voice down.”

Mace came the rest of the way into the enclosure around Ben’s bed and Anakin could see through to the other side of the room. What he saw was a ruined window. A large opening having been melted through it—presumably with a lightsaber—a puddle of melted glass collected on the floor below. And now that Anakin was aware of the source, he noticed that he could no longer hear that low, constant hum that he had noticed when he’d first entered the room.

Baffled, Anakin rose and walked across the room to look out of the window. There was no telling how many stories up they were, but there was a speeder running and waiting outside of the window. In the pilot’s seat sat a human boy that Anakin had seen around the Temple, but whose name he didn’t know. The kid looked very serious, as he held the speeder steady in the cover of night. Still, he waved excitedly to Anakin when he noticed him standing in what used to be the window. Anakin waved back in a bit of a daze. What was going on?

He turned back to Mace. “I didn’t know you took on a new Padawan.”

“Depa’s,” Mace said dismissively. He was studying the machines hooked up to Ben intently. “She allowed me to borrow him while she undergoes an important mission with Master Ti.”

“What mission?”

Mace turned to look at him. “Skywalker, do you trust me?”

“Generally.”

Mace frowned at that answer but waved Anakin over. “Then get over here and help me. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Anakin asked, coming to stand beside Mace.

“If you keep your mouth shut about this and come to the Temple. I’ll explain there. Suffice it to say that Solo isn’t safe here.”

So, without really knowing why, Anakin helped Mace move Ben’s limp body from where he lay in the hospital bed, out the window, and into the waiting speeder. Ben would have been impossibly heavy if they didn’t have the Force on their side, bolstering their strength.

It took a lot of time, not just because of the sheer mass of Ben but also because Anakin had to configure the monitors connected to him to not sound alerts when they were disconnected.

After some consideration, he timed them to show regular function until an hour’s time had passed, then they were free to raise an alert. He could use this situation to his advantage, he realized. So long as he told Palpatine what he wanted to hear.

“You coming?” Mace asked, sticking his head back into the room though the ruined window once they had Ben’s dead weight situated in the back of the speeder and Anakin had put the equipment back together.

Anakin hesitated. He’d really like to know what was going on. But Padme was still here. He couldn’t avoid her forever.

“You go on,” Anakin told them. “I have something more to do here first.”

“If you say so. I’ll be looking for you.” Still, Mace didn’t leave right away. Instead he looked at Anakin oddly. “I know, we don't always see eye to eye but, we’re friends...sort of,” he amended at Anakin’s raised brow. “You can come to me if you need me.”

“Right,” Anakin gestured to Ben in the speeder. “You owe me one.”

Mace frowned, but this one was different from his usual frowns. This frown had a furrowed brow that looked almost sad. “No, not that,” Mace corrected him. “You could have before this. You can long after.”

Anakin blinked in confusion, a little uncomfortable by the sincerity. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we belong to the same Order, Anakin Skywalker. And if we can't take care of each other—of our own—then how can we be trusted to care for the galaxy?”

Anakin nodded mutely, not knowing what to say.

Mace took that as an acknowledgement and settled into the passenger’s seat, apparently content to let Master Billaba’s young Padawan drive them through Coruscanti air traffic. Obi-Wan would have had a conniption at the mere suggestion that Anakin do the same when he was that age. Different teaching styles, Anakin supposed.

“Oh, and Skywalker!” Mace called.

This time Anakin stuck his head out of the window. “Yes?”

“Come to me directly when you want answers, this,” he gestured to Ben, “is on a need to know basis.”

That piqued Anakin’s interest, but he supposed he’d have to wait to ask when he went to the Temple to collect his answers because the Padawan was guiding the craft away from the window.

Anakin would like to say that he helped Mace because he knew that it was right. He’d like to claim that he did more than think about telling Mace the truth. About Palpatine. About Ben. About him. But as Anakin watched the speeder blend into traffic, Anakin knew that he’d only helped because he wanted to _feel_ like he’d done something right.

Instead, he just felt useless and a little sick.

He couldn’t put it off any longer. Now there was nothing keeping him from going to see Padme. His blameless wife, who, in another time had been killed by a monster called Darth Vader. A monster who was grandfather to Ben Solo. A monster who had to have been Anakin himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Anakin and Padme getting married under false names canon? I thought it was but couldn't find mention of it on Wookieepedia. If it's not, whoops. 
> 
> Also, Caleb Dume? What are you doing here? I was going to have the Jedi doctor from TCW episode 'Voices' driving the speeder, but I couldn't find her name and I have a use for Caleb later on so...he's spending some quality time with his grandmaster.


	21. try to see if secrets burn when you hold them up into the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry, this chapter is coming to you a week later than usual. I was sick last week and decided I'd take a break. 
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song, "Estate Sale Sign" by The Mountain Goats.

Rey came awake slowly, the edges of sleep still lingering so that, for a muddled moment, she thought that the ship was no longer moving.

Then she came fully awake and knew for certain that the ship was _no longer moving_.

That Force forsaken—He'd promised he would wake her when they arrived!

Rey flung Obi-Wan’s robe off of her but sat up slowly. As much as she’d like to storm off after him, she didn’t want to end up in the floor again.

She wiggled her fingers and toes, taking stock of her overall wellbeing and making sure that everything was in order. When it all checked out she reached out to Ben through the bond to tell him that she was on Coruscant.

But it was silent.

Try as she might she could not manage to reach that point where a connection was established. Worry knotted in her stomach. What could be hindering the connection?

Now, more unsettled than angry, Rey got up to seek answers.

The ship must have been docked already because the gangplank was down and Rey could hear many voices filtering through the opening. It sounded busy, like the Resistance preparing for battle, voices calling to each other across short distances, punctuated by the thuds of many footsteps, the whistling of droids or the whirrs of machinery.

Rey exited the shuttle to find Obi-Wan talking to a Togruta youth and a man in white plastoid armor that reminded her of that of the First Order Stormtroopers'.

In fact, upon looking around the busy hangar, everyone except Obi-Wan, the Togruta, and herself were wearing variations of the same armor, painted with different patterns and in different shades. Some were helmeted, most were not. Those whose faces she could see were…eerily similar. Similar enough to be the same face repeated over and over and over.

Rey looked around in horror.

“I know. It’s a bit disorienting at first,” the clone who stood with Obi-Wan said. “But you’ll get used to it in no time.”

Rey knew that the man was trying to be kind and under any other circumstances she’d be grateful. But right now?

She rounded on Obi-Wan.

“This is not Coruscant!” She yelled, punctuating every word.

For a fraught moment all activity around them ceased as the clone battalion stopped to watch her yell at Obi-Wan and she remembered, too late, that when she had first met him, he'd been introduced as a General of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Obi-Wan looked pained. “No. I’m afraid it isn’t.”

Slowly the onlookers resumed their activities.

“Where are we?” Rey asked. “You said we were going to Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. “I said no such thing.”

“Where are we?” Rey repeated.

“We are on Mandalore.”

“Why?”

“To speak with Captain Rex, of course,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the man who stood with him.

Of course!

“You had to pass Coruscant to get here! You couldn’t have dropped me off? Ben is—”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan interrupted her, trying to keep her from getting herself worked up but Rey knew that what he said wasn’t true. If Ben was fine she would be able to feel him. To speak with him. If Ben was fine then that place in her mind where she could peer through to glimpse him would not be dead silent.

“Ben Solo is physically fine,” Obi-Wan continued, oblivious to her turmoil. “But the situation is—”

“Physically?” Rey narrowed her eyes. If she had learnt anything about Obi-Wan Kenobi it was that he chose his words carefully and with purpose. “What do you mean _physically_? If he was fine he’d tell me himself, but I can’t seem to get through to him. Why is that?”

Obi-Wan frowned at her. “You shouldn't play with a connection you know nothing about—”

“Obi-Wan!”

He sighed, relenting. “He is in a coma.”

Rey swayed on her feet, suddenly feeling very faint. The Togruta put a hand on her elbow to steady her.

“But it’s medically induced.” He hurried to say.  “A precautionary measure to ensure that his brain recovers to normal function. Somehow he was electrocuted…Badly.”

The lightning.

Rey gritted her teeth in frustration. “That doesn’t sound like ‘fine’ to me.”

“Master Windu is monitoring the situation,” he assured her. “He says that the doctors expect a full recovery. It will just take time. The point is that he’s alive and he is safe.”

“For how long?” Rey asked. For all she knew Palpatine was going to seek Ben out and finish what he’d started. For all she knew the Sith Lord would attack the Jedi Temple and overthrow the Republic. For all she knew he was doing all of that now. While she and Obi-Wan wasted time on Mandalore. “We need to address the issue of the Sith Lord. The sooner the better.”

The Torgrata girl looked at Obi-Wan with alarm. “You never mentioned anything about another Sith.”

“That is because, as pressing as that is,” Obi-Wan said, under the weight of Rey’s displeasure and the disbelieving stares of the other two. “There is another issue we must address first. It’s why we’re here.”

Obi-Wan turned to the two strangers who had been watching their spat with curious interest. “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to Captain Rex,” he gestured to the clone in plastoid armor, “and Commander Ahsoka Tano,” here he gestured to the Torgrata girl. “Rex, Ahsoka, I’d like for you to meet Rey.”

* * *

“What are you doing?”

Rey looked over her shoulder. Commander Tano was standing in the doorway to the cockpit, looking askance at Rey, who was running diagnostics.

“Leaving,” Rey told her truthfully. Obi-Wan had to know that she had no intention of staying. Besides, it had become very clear within the first ten minutes of his meeting with Captain Rex that Rey’s knowledge of the situation had been tapped. She didn’t know more about Palpatine’s plans, or his use of the clones, than what she had already told Obi-Wan. She was useless here, but she was needed on Coruscant.

“If you don’t want to join me, Commander Tano, I suggest you exit the craft,” Rey advised, turning back to the console.

“Ahsoka,” she offered, kindly, but then she followed it with: “You’re not going to get clearance to leave.” Rey heard Ahsoka’s light footfalls as she walked farther into the cockpit and then tensed when she leaned in close to look at the readouts over Rey’s shoulder. Rey really didn’t like having a stranger that close, but she said nothing. “And you’re not going to get to Coruscant on _that_ amount of fuel.”

“I’ve already done the calculations, thank you,” Rey sniffed. “I have enough to get to the nearest port. I’ll refuel there.”

Ahsoka backed off, only to sink into the co-pilot's seat. She sat crookedly, elbow on the armrest, chin on her fist, as she regarded Rey. “In a ship that you stole from the Grand Army of the Republic? And with what credits?”

“I’ll steal that too,” Rey answered, testily.

Ahsoka was unfazed. “Do you even have a weapon?”

“What?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “If you’re going to be a space pirate now, you’ll at least need a blaster.”

Rey wasn’t sure what to make of Ahsoka Tano. She would bet that her age and her large blue eyes disarmed most people. Then again, she was clearly younger than Rey and she was already a commander so there must be more to her than a baby face.

“Surely there’s one on board somewhere,” Rey answered, dismissively.

“You think _Obi-Wan_ keeps a _blaster_?” Ahsoka asked, incredulously.

“I’ll build a lightsaber.”

“With what?”

“I have kyber.”

“Congratulations. You’re one sixty-fourth of the way there.”

Rey slammed her fist down on the console. “Why do you do that?!”

Ahsoka leaned forward, out of her nonchalant pose. “Because here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to launch this ship without clearance and the clone trooper on post is going to use a laser cannon to shoot you out of the sky.”

“Obi-Wan wouldn’t let them.”

“General Kenobi isn’t the commanding officer in this operation.”

“You’d give the order to shoot me?” Rey asked in disbelief. They were on the same side!

“This is a siege,” Ahsoka said, as though speaking to a child. “The order is standing. We made an exception for Obi-Wan because he is an ally. You are an unknown entity. He asked me to keep you on planet. Not in one piece.”

Rey raised her chin, defensively. “I could evade.”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka relented. “But then all those holes I poked in your plan become problems with your current situation.”

“I have to get back to Coruscant.” Ben needed her. Obi-Wan didn’t. She didn’t know anything about the clones’ chip other than they could be used to kill Jedi.

“Why do you have to go to Coruscant so badly?”

Rey wasn’t sure what all information Obi-Wan had shared with Ahsoka and Rex before she had woken but Ahsoka sounded genuinely curious, so Rey told her the truth.

“My—Ben. My friend Ben. He’s in trouble and he needs my help.”

“Obi-Wan said that Anakin was still on the planet with your friend. He won’t let any harm befall him.”

Rey wanted to argue but it was said with such conviction—such utter confidence in Anakin’s abilities and goodness—that it gave Rey pause.

“You know Anakin?”

“Of course. He was my Master.”

“You’re Master? You’re a Jedi?” She probably should have realized that. Ahsoka obviously wasn’t a clone. Why else would such a young person be in command of a battalion?

“No”’ Ahsoka said with a frown, surprising her. “I’m not a Jedi.” Upon seeing the confusion on Rey’s face Ahsoka continued. “But I was training to be one—at one time. I was Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan. That’s why I know that he will do everything in his power to keep your friend safe—if he is in any danger.”

Rey had her doubts. “Even if my friend was a darksider?”

“Is he?” Ahsoka asked with astonished interest.

Rey didn’t answer, it shouldn’t matter. “What if it was between my friend and Padme? Who would Anakin choose to keep safe, then?”

“That’s a very unlikely scenario,” Ahsoka said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve met Senator Amidala? How is she?”

“Very pregnant.”

Ahsoka had a stunned look on her face. “Uh—I’m sorry. She’s pregnant? Anakin knows this?”

“Of course he knows. He told me.”

“Why would he tell _you_?” She asked, snappishly. She gasped before Rey could say anything, a thought striking her. “Does Obi-Wan know? Who am I kidding, of course he doesn’t know. He would never have left Anakin alone if he knew.”

Rey was confused. “Because of...the Jedi view on attachment?”

Ahsoka snorted and rolled her eyes again. “Please. Those are the two most ‘attached’ Jedi you will meet. It’s because he’d never let Anakin hear the end of it. He would be giving him grief until his dying breath.”

“Why? What’s so wrong about Anakin being a father? He even acted like it was some huge, life-changing secret when he told me.”

Ahsoka blinked at her for a moment. “You honestly don’t know? Aren’t you Obi-Wan’s Padawan?”

“I really don’t know,” Rey said, in answer to both. She didn’t think she was his Padawan, but he seemed to be the Master who took the most interest in her training.

“It’s against his vows as a Jedi,” Ahsoka told her. “We are—I mean, _they—_ the Jedi—are not unaffected by desire, and some even act on it— _discreetly._ But they aren’t supposed to have families in that way.”

“The Jedi aren’t allowed to have families?” She asked, stunned as suddenly several things fell into place.

“The Jedi Order is your family. Anything else is a danger.”

“A danger? To who?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Everyone.”

* * *

Rey eventually left the shuttle—that avenue now closed to her by a tenacious teen—and wandered through the halls of the base for a while, thinking about what she’d learned from Ahsoka.

It seemed obvious, in retrospect, that the Jedi had such strict rules in regards to marriage and procreation. They were an Order whose service was to the Force, first and foremost. Families were messy and would distract their Knights. Wasn’t Anakin Skywalker example enough of that?

Her conversation with Ahsoka hadn’t been a complete waste, however. It reminded her that Obi-Wan didn’t know _everything_ that she knew. She had one final bit of information that she could share with him that would possibly make him wish to go to Coruscant. Ahsoka seemed to think that it would.

Still, should she share this? Is it within her to betray Anakin’s trust? Anakin had said that sharing this secret would ruin him. She now knew why.

Part of her rationalized that any promises she’d made to keep Anakin’s secret had been forfeited when he tried to mine her memories. But it was a half-hearted justification. Rey knew that sharing Anakin’s secret was wrong, was taking away the choice from him. She would have been devastated weeks ago if Chewie had told anyone about her connection to Kylo Ren. Even though she had finally accepted it, even sought it. She had had time to work through it in her own way. She’d be taking that chance away from Anakin.

In the end, it was unconsciously seeking out the bond that made her decision for her. She had no idea what sharing this information would do to Anakin or Obi-Wan or even Padme, but Ben needed her on Coruscant.

Rey asked the nearest clone where she might find General Kenobi and was directed to a junk room, where oddly, Obi-Wan sat in the floor, picking through busted equipment. He had accumulated a small pile of bits and pieces of machinery. His normally pristine beige robes were smudged with grime and his hands were caked in grease. For a moment, the image was enough to take Rey out of her spiraled thoughts and stop her in her tracks.

Obi-Wan looked up at her entrance and smiled. “Ah, just who I wanted to see.” He didn’t sound sarcastic like Rey expected. He sounded pleased to see her.

“Why do you want to see me?” Rey asked, wary as she moved farther into the room. She’d been the one to seek him out, after all, not the other way around.

Obi-Wan raised a wry eyebrow at her. “We have much to discuss, do we not?”

“You’re happy with today then?” Rey asked, crossing her arms. Today seemed like a large waste of time, in her opinion.

“With today’s progress. Yes. Rey, come sit with me,” he patted a clear spot on the floor beside him. “Allow me to explain.”

Reluctantly, Rey sat with Obi-Wan.

“What’s all this?” she asked, gesturing to the pile of junk, mentally calculating its worth in bread.

“Normally we’d go to the _Crucible_ and you’d construct the hilt of your lightsaber from the extensive stores housed there. But,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Given circumstances as they are, well…I still wanted you to have some options.”

Rey looked at the pile of junk with new eyes.

“All of this is for me?”

“Well, you don’t have to use every scrap,” Obi-Wan said, with a touch of embarrassment. “But…this isn’t fair to you. I understand and I am sorry.”

“You are?”

Rey must have sounded more stunned than she’d meant to because Obi-Wan put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. The gesture was nice, if a little odd, for both of them.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan assured her. Taking back his hand. “But the clones are the Jedi’s responsibility. We don’t know when or how Palpatine uses them. Eliminating our allies as a potential threat takes priority.”

Under any other circumstances this would have made perfect sense to Rey. She would have enthusiastically helped Obi-Wan in any way she could. But as it was, she had so few people that she considered family and the one that was here was out of her reach. Sidelined for Obi-Wan’s endeavor. Noble as it was, she couldn’t help but resent the distraction a bit.

“Is it working?”

“I think so. Rex knew of the chip and how to remove it. He is coordinating the efforts to remove them from every clone. It will take some time, but the clones are efficient.”

“They trust each other,” Rey observed.

Obi-Wan gave her an odd look. As if this was a given that he’d never considered as extraordinary.

“I suppose.”

“They’re each other’s family.”

“They do call each other ‘brother’.”

“Commander Tano says the Jedi are like a family.”

Obi-Wan considered this, a look on his face that spoke more to his understanding of her and of her sensitivity to this topic than she was entirely comfortable with. He had seen a glimpse of her childhood home, while trying to help her build shields in her mind, but they hadn’t discussed it because Rey had bristled at the pity. Now, she wondered what conclusions he had drawn based on that one glimpse.

“They can be,” Obi-Wan told her seriously. “If you let them.”

Rey shook her head sadly. It was a nice thought, but ultimately, unrealistic.

“They can’t be mine,” she told him, her voice quiet. “Don’t you see, Obi-Wan? If I lean too much on the Order—if I get too used to the security they offer—then what will I have when I go back to my own time? Nothing and no one. No stability. No home. I need more than what the Order can offer me.” She took a deep breath. Last chance to keep Anakin’s secrets a secret. “I’m not the only one.”

“You mean Solo?”

Rey gave a wan smile. She could understand why he’d draw that conclusion.

“I mean Anakin.” Rey expected him to be baffled. Expected questions or even a dismissive scoff. What she didn’t expect was for Obi-Wan to duck his head.

“You know that the Order will never be enough for him, don’t you? I don’t know why I didn't see it before. That’s why you love him so singularly. Because you know he needs it. And maybe you do too.”

“I wouldn’t say that I _need_ it,” Obi-Wan said, unconvincingly. “You must understand, Anakin wasn’t raised in the Jedi Temple. When my Master found him—well, Anakin was more potential than he was person to Qui-Gon. Even though he wanted to be a Jedi, he had such difficulty adjusting. He was my Padawan. My responsibility, since he was nine years old. I was the only person he trusted, for a long time. I was his guide into this lifestyle. There was a time when he depended on me for everything.”

“You were his doorway into the Force.” Rey said, recalling Yoda’s warnings to her about how dangerous such relationships could be. That they were not to be undertaken lightly.

“Something like that,” Obi-Wan acknowledged with a shrug. “If it takes me longer to put aside my Padawan then other Masters—it’s simply due to the unique nature of our relationship. It’s not a bad thing that he is like a brother to me.”

“But the Jedi look down on such things.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, sadly. “You must think that the Jedi are unfeeling monsters. I’m sorry if I, in any way, led you to believe that. It’s simply not true.”

“What about that attachment rule? And releasing your emotions into the Force?”

“Those guidelines have the same goal, Rey. When you can detach yourself from your personal wants and desires, then the will of the Force becomes clear. Otherwise, you run the risk of mixing up the will of the Force with your own will.”

Rey could see how they came to that conclusion, it was easy to fill an empty vessel, after all. But Rey had heard the will of the Force and she was far from a good Jedi. And Luke had heard what he assumed he’d hear, when he went looking in Ben’s head all those years ago. Otherwise, he would not have looked. And hadn't Luke Skywalker been a model Jedi? If nothing else he had managed to become free of attachments while on Ahch-To. The effect had looked a lot like annihilation to Rey.

“I disagree,” she told Obi-Wan. “A person can’t be empty all the time. At least, I can’t. If I purge my emotions then what is left of me? I can’t be detached from myself. I am the only constant I’ve ever had.”

Why should Rey give up any of herself? On Jakku such detachment from one’s needs and instincts would have meant a quick descent into apathy and, ultimately, starvation. To Rey, the Jedi’s method looked like starvation, of a kind.

“And I refuse to give up anyone who has come to know me and sees the value in me. If that makes me unsuited to being a Jedi than so be it.”

Obi-Wan studied her. “A week ago I would have agreed that you were unsuited. Now…I don’t know.”

“What changed?”

“I should have listened to you,” Obi-Wan admitted. “The Force told you where you were needed and I willfully kept you from it.”

“You are still willfully keeping me from it,” Rey pointed out, baffled. “You told Ahsoka not to let me leave the base.”

Obi-Wan shifted, uncomfortable. “I apologize, but I am wary of the connection you share with Solo. And as I said, the clones take priority.”

Rey had nothing to say to Obi-Wan about her bond with Ben. It wasn’t any of his business anymore.

As for his priorities…

“Over me, sure, but over Anakin?”

“You are being overly simplistic.”

“Perhaps. You never asked me why he sought his future out in my mind.”

“He told me,” Obi-Wan said, dismissively, picking up the piece of junk he’d discarded when Rey entered the room.

“Did he?”

“Yes,” he answered, distractedly as he studied the component in his hand.

“Ah. So, is the Jedi Order alright with the children or just you?”

Obi-Wan paused.

“The children?”

“The twins,” Rey clarified. “That Padme Amidala is currently carrying. Anakin’s children.”

Obi-Wan turned to face her again, blinking rapidly. “Anakin…Padme—Twins?”

“So he didn’t tell you?” Rey asked. “He didn’t tell you that I knew he was going to be a father, nearly before he did, because I have met members of his family in my time? He didn’t tell you any of that?”

“Anakin is having children…”

“Well,” Rey huffed. “Padme’s going to be doing all the work in that regard, but yes. You seem shocked. Why?”

“He took vows,” Obi-Wan said in a near whisper. “He committed to this way of life.”

“The Jedi aren’t supposed to have children?” Rey asked. Ahsoka had told her as much but she needed to hear it from Obi-Wan. The prospect didn’t sit well with her; she wanted to be sure.

“No. Our commitment is to the Force.”

“What will happen to Anakin for breaking his vow?” She had to know. If she had purposely shared his secrets then she needed to know the full details of the consequences. She had to know what it was that she’d done.

Obi-Wan blinked at her in confusion. “Nothing. He will be forced to leave the Order but he could have always left. If what you are saying is true, he won’t be punished.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Obi-Wan turned from her and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly. “I do,” he said, his voice pained. “That’s why this is difficult.”

“Do you believe that being told to leave the Order won’t feel like a punishment to Anakin?”

“It will,” Obi-Wan admitted quietly. “How far along is she?”

“I don’t know. We could ask Ben, but—oh wait, no. He’s in a coma on Coruscant.”

Her sass sailed over Obi-Wan’s head, he was having a crisis of his own.

“I knew that he and Padme were,” Obi-Wan paused, likely considering his words carefully. “Closer than was wise, but I never thought—I didn’t expect—I never thought they'd keep it from me,” he finished sadly.

“I understand,” Rey said, reaching out and clasping his hand in her own. It must be difficult for Obi-Wan, who she now knew had practically raised Anakin, to be kept in the dark about a large and important part of his life. “When the galaxy is falling apart you tell yourself that your personal issues can wait. But they won't. They'll come for you all at once.”

“Yes. It rather feels like that. If the Order finds out before Anakin is ready to tell them—before I am there to mitigate,” Obi-Wan swallowed heavily. “Anakin needs me.”

Rey started to suggest that perhaps they should leave for Coruscant but, with Obi-Wan’s despondency there came a shift in Rey’s perception. It was minute, at first, a nagging that Rey wrote off as being her own conscious, making her feel guilty for telling Anakin’s secrets.

Then, Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed in concentration. Before Rey could so much as ask if he felt it too, he was standing and pulling her to her feet.

“What’s wrong?” Rey asked.

“There’s an intruder in the base.”

Rey watched as he retrieved a comm-link from his robes but before he could key in a frequency a klaxon began to blare. For a wild moment the sound caused Rey to forget where she was, she reached for her lightsaber, knowing that the First Order had found the base. Her fingers closed around nothing. No lightsaber. No blaster. Reminding her where she was.

Since it couldn’t be the First Order and it was doubtful that Palpatine himself had made a trip to Mandalore to kill them, then what enemy would she be facing? Weaponless, no less.

“I don’t have a weapon.”

Obi-Wan glanced at her and cursed.

“Hide here,” he commanded. “I can draw him away.”

It seemed like a reasonable request but there was really nowhere to hide in the small room. Besides, Rey could hear the sounds of activity coming steadily closer. Clones were shouting orders over the unmistakable burst of blaster fire. A battle was raging and Rey was a sitting duck.

Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber as the body of a clone was tossed through the open doorway. He maneuvered himself in front of her, saber raised over his head and eyes trained on the entrance as Rey cast around the junk room for something (Anything!) she could defend herself with.

She called a rusted piece of piping to her hand with the Force. It wasn’t heavy enough to be a proper staff but it was better than nothing.

When Rey looked up a demon stood on the threshold. The Force was saturated with the creature’s hatred and Obi-Wan’s resolve. But it wasn’t the horns or the severe tattooing that caught her eye. That would have made sense, as he was very fearsome looking. It wasn’t even the mechanical legs that gleamed dully in the harsh light or the way he howled: “KENOBI!” Or his sickly yellow eyes.

Rey’s gaze was glued to the weapon he held.

It was a lightsaber, to be sure. Red, like Ben’s, but the beam was steady, like a Jedi’s. The hilt was long enough for two hands as blades of light emitted from either side.

It looked like he’d taken two lightsabers and attached them end to end. But he didn’t hold it like two separate sabers. He held it like a staff. And Rey? Rey _needed_ to hold it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _really_ tried to talk myself out of adding Maul, since he will only add a small amount to the overall story...but I also really wanted to write some Maul and Rey interaction and saw this as my only chance to do so 🤷♀️
> 
> Next, will be a Coruscant crew chapter.


	22. what will I do when I don’t have you to hold onto in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a couple of tags which concern Padme. If the new tags are a concern for you then feel free to leave a comment asking for specifics or dm me on twitter (@disorientedscrb). I don't want to take anyone by surprise in a bad way.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song 'Oceanographer's Choice' by The Mountain Goats.

Padme woke by measures, almost as if she was reluctant to leave sleep behind. Maybe she was. She hadn’t slept this well in too long. It was the kind of sleep that lingered in her muddled thoughts, in the muscles of her body, even in her vision. Everything blurring together when she first opened her eyes.

Slowly her surroundings coalesced into the tell-tale signs of a medical room; sterile white walls, a large opaque window, a machine beeping in the rhythm of her heart, but it was out of sync.

It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't just _her_ heart that was being monitored but that there were two other beeps, distinctly separate from her own. Together they melded into and out of each other to create a harmony unlike anything Padme had ever heard.

She’s overwhelmed. For a while she stayed still, closed her eyes and let it wash over her. She allowed herself to cherish the moment.

She was alive.

Her children were alive.

Someday soon their fates would be separate from her, but for now, in this moment, they three were together as one. This comforted her. If she was really fated to die, they would need to be separate from her. She would enjoy this. While she could.

When Padme felt ready to face the world she opened her eyes again. She was laying on her side, facing the heart monitor. This time she turned to look around the whole room, to find Anakin sitting at her bedside, head in his hands. Now that she was facing him, she could hear something underneath the harmony of heartbeats: Anakin’s short, labored breaths. It almost sounded as though he was crying. But why would he be upset? Everything was fine. Their children’s heartbeats were strong.

“Ani?”

Anakin’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice. She had been right; his face was tearstained.

“Padme! You’re awake!” The relief in his voice was palpable and it eased her worry, even though his face was still wet from tears; his eyes too bright.

For a brief moment he was joyous, leaping from his seat and starting toward her, but on his way to embrace her, he hesitated. Then stopped entirely. Standing, at a loss in the center of the room. His odd behavior was enough to remind her of the events that led to her admittance in the Medcenter. She pushed herself up on her elbows in sudden urgency.

“Is Ben safe? Is he alright? Palpatine is—”

There was no hesitance to Anakin’s actions now. He crossed the room in a hurry before leaning over her and catching her lips in the galaxies most ungraceful kiss. He’d caught her mid-sentence, so that he was mostly kissing teeth. Still, this was important so she tried to mumble her sentence around his kiss anyway.

Anakin pulled back enough to whisper, “Not here. We’re still in danger.” His mouth forming the words over her own, lips moving over hers. It would be a romantic gesture if the words hadn't sent chills down her spine.

Anakin pulled away quickly, withdrawing from her entirely to stare down at her, his expression pinched and unhappy. He wiped his face on his sleeve but most of his tears had transferred to her cheeks during their kiss anyway.

Padme took a moment to swallow the panic down and replace it with the mask of a concerned wife. It was easy because she was that too.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” was his stricken, dejected answer. Padme didn't even know where to begin unpacking that statement so she said nothing and worked herself into a proper sitting position.

“Why did you marry me?” Anakin whispered in the silence; out of nowhere. It was a nonsensical question. So absurd that, for a moment, she considered that perhaps she was still asleep. That this was a dream.

She wiped his tears off of her face. It felt real enough. Her answer was simple and honest. “Because I love you.”

If anything this appeared to tear Anakin apart.

“I’ve done terrible things.” 

Padme looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap and thought of the Tusken Raiders but she wasn’t sure if that was what he was referring to, so she didn't mention it. She thought, instead of his treatment of Ben over the past few days. Of his treatment of her.

“I don’t love everything you do,” she admitted, looking back at him. “You’re a good person, you strive to do good—usually—even when it’s difficult. You choose to do good.”

“What if I chose the other way?”

Padme considered this. She wasn't sure where he was going with these questions, so she couldn't tailor her answer. It made her ill at ease but she answered honestly.

“You’d likely have good intentions…but you wouldn’t be my Ani anymore, would you?”

Anakin did not like her answer, she could tell. She could always tell, from the set of his shoulders, from the way his brow furrowed; from clenched fists. But there was no outburst from him, like she would have expected. Instead his eyes well, again, with tears.

“No,” he said, voice ragged. “I wouldn’t be.”

Padme tried to reach for him, to comfort him through whatever bad things had stuck in his mind now, but Anakin pulled away from her touch; backed away until he was out of her reach.

“Anakin,” she said in her most soothing voice. “What’s this about?”

“I think there is something wrong with me,” he admitted, tears falling down his face. “I’m not the Jedi I should be. I want more…And I’m scared—scared of myself—of what I would do.”

Padme let her hand fall. “What is it that you want?”

“I want to be a Jedi—to be respected and valued and do good—but I also want _you_. I want to be your husband and to be a father to your children.”

“You are the father. How could you think—”

But Anakin shook his head.

“Not if I have to keep them a secret. When I told you I loved you. You said we’d be living a lie—you were right. You’re always right. Even when it tears me apart.”

Padme had a bad feeling about this.

She reached for him again. “Come here, Ani. We’ll figure something out.”

Anakin would usually fall into her embrace, seeking the comfort and calm that he only ever seemed to get from her. He did not come to her now. “Anakin,” her voice hardened with unsourced anxiety. “Come here.”

If anything, he pulled further back, shaking his head. Padme started to consider getting off the bed and going to him when he spoke again, stopping her.

“You don’t deserve what I would do,” he said like a confession. “You and the twins will be better off without me.” He splayed a hand over his chest. “I’m a sickness, Padme. Ben should have told you. He should have _warned_ you.”

Ben had given her a warning. Ben had seemed to think that Anakin was falling to the dark side. Panic finally settled fully into Padme, making the heart monitor beep erratically.

“What are you saying? Ani, you’re scaring me.”

“In Ben’s time I—” Anakin tried to speak but he bowed his head and started choking on his own sobs, curling in on himself.

Alarmed, Padme got off the bed. She started to walk across the room to him, her bare feet stung by the cold floor.

Anakin glanced up and there was genuine fear in his eyes as he saw her approaching. “I killed you!” He cried, the sentence erupting from him like a threat.

* * *

Anakin didn't leave after the revelation and Padme didn’t ask him to. She wanted to, she just didn't have the heart to voice it. She sat on the bed, drawn into herself as much as she was able, staring at the heart monitor.

She had been sitting like this since he’d told her. She hadn’t finished approaching him. She had simply backed up, climbed back onto the bed, and not said a word.

Eventually, Anakin’s sobs had subsided and he’d sat back in the chair. Watching her. Oddly still, for Anakin.

There was no sound, except the constant beep, reminding her that she was alive, that she was not dead yet. Instead, they sat in silence—him waiting for her to say something and her not knowing what to say—until the doctor came in and kicked him out.

Anakin didn't argue, didn't insist he had a right to be there. Padme didn't either.

She wasn’t sure how she felt. She thought she knew how she _should_ feel, but she was disconnected to her emotions at the moment. It was like the revelation had flipped a switch inside of her and she didn't know how to turn her emotions back on; didn't know if she wanted to. Had no idea what she'd find if she did.

The doctor was a welcome distraction, even if the being did run Padme through the ringer for being nearly six months pregnant and never having sought medical attention. She welcomed the harsh criticism. She needed it. It was her fault. Wasn’t it? She wasn't dead yet and it was her responsibility to see the twins grown enough to survive outside of her. She was neglectful. She wondered who raised them in Ben’s time. Surely not Anakin. Who would raise them when she died? She’d have to ask Ben. She needed to make plans.

When she did die, it would be Anakin’s fault. Anakin, who kept insisting that he was going to save her. Anakin, who she loved. Anakin, who she kept happy and comforted and content, despite everything. Did that make it her fault too?

Near the end of their consultation the doctor prescribed the unthinkable: Padme was to go on light duty for the duration of her pregnancy.

“Honestly, I suggest you quit working entirely,” the doctor told her, somehow being equal parts sympathetic and scolding. “At least try to work from home. I’m close to suggesting complete bed rest.”

“Why?” Padme asked, appalled at the idea. What could she do on light duty? On bed rest? The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic was a maniacal Sith Lord and this doctor wanted Padme to _rest?_

The doctor leveled her with a weighty stare. “Your blood pressure is dangerously high, Senator. It’s a risk when carrying multiples anyway, but given how you’ve spent the last few days…” The doctor consulted the datapad in her hand. “My records indicate that you were _shot at_ the day before the onset of this episode. Is that correct?”

“Yes, but it’s fine. I wasn’t hit.”

“It’s not fine,” the doctor shook her head in disbelief. “An attempt was made on your life. That in and of itself is a traumatic event that _should have_ prompted a check up, at least.”

Padme ducked her head, guiltily, knowing full well that she had refused medical care that night. The doctor was not finished with her, however.

“That kind of emotional trauma, on top of your high stress career,” she sat aside her datapad and grasped Padme’s hand, looking seriously into her eyes. “To keep on at the pace you’ve been going is a serious risk. You could do irreparable damage to your organs. The placenta could undergo a reduction in blood flow—which means that your babies get less oxygen and fewer nutrients. They could be born too small or too soon. If worse comes to worse your life could be in danger.”

There was was again. Her death. This just confirmed what Padme already knew, that death was coming for her, one way or another. Now she knew with certainty that she bore some responsibility for her own death. Shouldn’t it be that way? She was hurting her children. She would be a threat to them until they were safely free of her.

* * *

When Padme is discharged Anakin made sure he was there. He might be twisted up by recent events. He might be horrified by what he’d done in a time he hoped he never saw. He may be a mess, but he was still her husband. He would make sure she got home safely, even if he wouldn't allow himself to stay with her. He would not force her to make that decision.

She didn't say anything when he waved her over in the entryway of the Medical Center, but she did come to him, she did follow him to the speeder. So what if she seemed a bit listless? Sleeping for nearly a full standard day would do that to a person, Anakin supposed. So what if she didn't talk? She has every right to be disgusted with him, to be hurt and angry. He did wish she would share those emotions with him. But he wouldn't push. Her murderer did not have the right to her private feelings.

Besides, she’d left the Medcenter without changing clothes, Anakin noticed. She was still in the pristine white medical issue scrubs. It's a small detail, but it troubled Anakin more than her silence.

They were in the speeder and bound up in air traffic when Padme finally spoke. She sat in the passenger’s seat, her head leaned against the window as the setting sun shone through the space between towering buildings, casting their surroundings in a blaze of orange light.

“Is my apartment going to be under surveillance?” Her voice was rough, as if she hasn’t spoken in an age.

“I’ll check before I leave.”

She glances at him, but didn't comment about his plans.

“You know that Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord, don’t you?”

Anakin had been stealing himself for her righteous anger, he'd thought she would yell or cry, curse him or demand he never speak to her again. Now, in the face of…whatever this was, he wished that she would do any or all of those things.

“I do now,” he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “In Ben’s time Palpatine must have convinced me to—”

“I don’t want to know about that,” Padme insisted, cutting him off.

“Alright.” He didn’t want to know either, not really, but he felt like he needed to. Any speculation as to how or why it had happened would have to wait until Ben woke up.

“You never answered my question before.”

“What was that?”

Padme hesitated, for the briefest of moments, but Anakin was hyper aware of her every movement just then, and noticed. “Where’s Ben?” She asked quietly.

He had put that hesitancy in her. He'd made her wary to care about someone other than him in his presence. He had been right—he was a sickness.

He wanted to tell her the truth. He owed her the truth. But he needed to know what Mace had intended first. That didn’t mean he couldn’t tell her some of the truth.

“He was admitted to the Medcenter at the same time you were, but he disappeared from his room hours ago.” It wasn’t a lie. It felt like a lie. “The Chancellor has every force on Coruscant looking for him.”

Anakin watched from the corner of his eye as Padme processed this. She swallowed down some heavy emotion that she did not share with him and turned back to the window without a word.

In Padme’s apartment she went straight to her room but, Anakin noted, she left the door open.

Anakin spent the next two hours combing the apartment for any type of surveillance. All the while C-3PO followed him, indignantly insisting that he would _never_ allow anyone to invade the Senator’s privacy.

Anakin tried to explain that he meant no offense but that Padme had another attempt on her life and that _he_ would feel better after checking.

That didn't help. C-3PO ended up telling him the odds of someone getting through his security measures and avoiding his scanners. The only thing that deterred him was when, in frustration, Anakin suggested the droid go check on Padme. After which C-3PO stayed with her.

When Anakin was satisfied with his inspection he went to the doorway of Padme’s bedroom.

She was laying on the bed, her back to the door, still in her Medcenter scrubs as C-3PO tried to coax her into changing out of them. This was so wrong that Anakin was dumbstruck. 

“What is it?” Padme asked when he’d lingered in the doorway for too long. She didn't turn to face him.

“The apartment is clean,” he told her. “But I can’t vouch for whether or not it’s being monitored from the outside.”

“Fine,” Padme shifted, burrowing farther into her nest of pillows. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shouldn’t you move around some?” Anakin suggested. She’d been laying down for many hours already. Surely she was stiff and sore from inactivity?

“The doctor prescribed bed rest.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t even asked how her meeting with the doctor had gone. Did he have a right to ask? Would she even tell him now? “Are you alright?” It wasn’t a direct question about the appointment and it came out awkwardly, but surely that was alright to ask? Surely she’d know what he meant. 

“Either come lay with me or leave,” Padme said, her voice devoid of any emotion that would indicate to him that she would prefer he did one above the other. It sounded as though she couldn’t care less which he chose to do. “But I’m going to sleep now.”

He should leave it at that. He didn't need to unload all of his issues onto her all the time. This was for her own good. He should be firm. He should leave.

“You know I’d never want to hurt you,” he said, instead. “It would kill me to do something so unthinkable. I wasn’t me anymore. I couldn't have been me. It has to be this way. I don’t have a choice.”

Anakin turned to leave but before he could take a step he heard Padme speak.

“You always have a choice, but you were right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Padme turned to look at him. He couldn't make out her expression in the dim light of the room but the passion in her voice was unmistakable.

“My children deserve to be more than secrets.”

Anakin bowed his head, acknowledging her point.

“I’ll come by to check on you in the morning.”

Padme turned away again with a soft and sarcastic, “You do that.”

With that, Anakin left her alone.

* * *

Anakin was sure that if Padme knew where he went after leaving her apartment, that her apparent apathy would evaporate like a puddle of water on Tatooine. It wasn't that he wanted to go meet with Palpatine. Sure, there was a part of him that wished it was a joke, that the man who had been like a father to him for so many years wasn’t actually a conniving agent of darkness but…

But denying that would be to deny Ben’s word. And Ben was family. Blood of his blood.

As a child—as a slave—Anakin had known many families that had been separated. Sometimes he’d have nightmares that someone would take away his mother. He should have known better, it was always the children who were taken. Traded by Masters for goods or profit. Children were malleable. Teachable. Potential personified.

His mother had taught him the value of family. Near or far, separate or together, blood or chosen, family was important. He could not disgrace her memory by ignoring her teachings. He might not know Ben very well, but he was family, and just like Padme and the twins she carried, Anakin would do anything to keep him safe.

Palpatine was alone when Anakin was admitted into his office. He greeted him with a smile, as if he hadn’t sent him to kill Ben a few hours ago.

“Anakin, son. Come in!”

Anakin made his way into the office. Seeing it with new eyes. Had it always been decorated with this much red?

Palatine did not rise to greet him, as he usually did. Instead, he waited for Anakin to enter the office from behind his ornate desk, waving Anakin into a seat across from him.

“How is Padme?” He asked when Anakin has sat.

How was Padme? How should Anakin know? Sad? Disappointed? Angry? Horrified? Depressed? Relieved? Tired? She hadn’t answered when Anakin had asked her if she was alright.

“Healthy, but anxious,” Anakin guessed. He had no idea if either of those were true. “The medics suggested bed rest.”

Palpatine nodded sympathetically. He didn’t _seem_ much different to Anakin. Did that mean that this was an act? Or was Anakin blind for never having realized that Palpatine was a darksider? If that was the case then the whole galaxy was just as blind.

That wasn’t a comforting thought.

“That will be difficult for our persistent Padme,” Palpatine said, oblivious to Anakin’s thoughts. Or so Anakin hoped.

No—Anakin needed to calm down. If there was one thing he was certain about it was that Palpatine couldn’t get past his shields without him noticing.

Then again, if Palpatine had convinced Anakin to kill Padme in Ben’s time, then Palpatine wouldn’t have to use the Force to manipulate Anakin. The idea filled him with unease.

Wait. Their Padme?

“And the children?” Palpatine asked in Anakin’s silence.

Children. So Palpatine knew about the twins. Funny, Anakin hadn’t told him. Still, as much as he was revolted by it, he had a good guess about what Palpatine wanted. It was always the children, after all.

“Strong,” Anakin answered.

Palpatine smiled.

“Good,” he crooned. “That’s very good to hear. I know how stressful the last few days have been for Padme. Now.” Here, his whole demeanor changed. Going from genial to calculating. He steepled his fingers and pierced Anakin with a disapproving stare. “Tell me about Solo. I received a report some time ago that he had escaped his medical room?”

“It would _appear that way_ ,” Anakin said, leaning heavily on his intended meaning. This was crucial. Palpatine had to believe him.

Palpatine relaxed, marginally. “I see. Where is he really?”

Anakin could feel a presence like cold fingers combing over his shields. He allowed the memory of him taking Ben’s lightsaber out of his robe in the Medcenter to slip through. As well as him reconfiguring the machines to delay an alert. While carefully leaving out Mace Windu’s involvement.

While this was going on, Anakin spoke. “What's left of him is in a crate, in the cargo hold of a freighter, that’s manifest had it slated for the Outer Rim.”

Palpatine leaned back in his chair, satisfied. “Well done. Now, you have something on your mind?”

“You are the Sith Lord that the Jedi have been looking for.” It wasn’t poised as a question, Anakin didn’t really need the confirmation.

“I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We have been friends for so long. Since I was a child.” Suddenly, Ben's questions when he first came made sense. But Anakin could not be distracted by that now. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

“It isn’t a matter of trust,” Palpatine told him. “It’s about self-preservation. You know the truth now. What will you do?”

This is a game; an act. Palpatine would tell him only as much as Palpatine thought he needed to know and nothing more. Anakin was going to have to emulate him if he wanted to keep his family safe.

“I killed Solo, at your order.”

“No,” Palpatine’s voice was hard, his eyes blazing, almost yellow. “You refused my order. ‘It is not the Jedi way.’ That’s what you said. You killed Solo to rectify a mistake—to undo an error in judgment.”

Anakin ducked his head, guiltily. “I need to keep my family safe. What can I do?”

Palpatine was quiet for a long while and Anakin was sure to keep his head bowed, his gaze downward. A good slave for his Master, he thought with revulsion.

Knowing that it was an act didn’t help.

“What indeed,” Palpatine finally said with a sigh. “Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

* * *

Padme was woken by the sound of voices raised in argument. She checked the chrono, only to realize she hadn’t known what time she left the Medcenter, therefore the time on the chrono meant nothing to her. Confused and worried as the voices got louder, Padme got out of bed—taking several moments to fight with her stiff joints—and went to investigate.

She found C-3PO arguing with two robed individuals at her door, hoods drawn up to cover their faces.

“Mistress Padme is not taking visitors!” C-3PO informed them. She could tell from the pitch of his voice that he’d said this multiple times and was on the verge of exasperation.

“What’s going on?” She asked the group, stepping into the foyer.

All three turned to look at her and Padme was surprised to see Master Windu under one of the hoods. He’s accompanied by a boy she didn't recognize. He was tall enough to be in the throes of adolescence, but the fat still stored in his round cheeks suggested that his height was only one of many growth spurts yet to come.

“Senator Amidala,” Master Windu greeted her with a slight bow. “I apologize for disrupting you rest.”

“I’m awake now. Please, come in. I—”

Padme realized with embarrassment that she was still dressed in medical scrubs.

“Please give me a moment,” she excused herself, clearing her throat, awkwardly.  “C-3PO, make out guests at home.”

Padme turned and re-entered her room. She wasted a moment debating with herself about dressing to hide her pregnancy. She’d told Anakin that the twins didn’t deserve to be kept a secret and she believed that, but old habits die hard.

It was the fact that Master Windu had just seen her that decided the matter. Padme dressed in a simple tunic and leggings before trying her hardest to channel her public persona and going out to meet her guests.

C-3PO had supplied the Jedi with beverages and cookies. Master Windu, sipping on what smelled like caf, hastily stood when he noticed her enter the room. The boy hurried to imitate him, mouth packed with cookies.

“Please sit,” Padme said, with a wave of her hand. “The hour demands that this be an informal meeting.”

“My apologies, once again,” Master Windu said as he sat back on the sofa. “But it was necessary we wait for nightfall.”

“Oh?” Padme asked, raising her brow. “Consider me intrigued.”

“You’re friends with Ben Solo, are you not?”

Padme frowned. She realized, in that moment, that she has assumed this would be about Anakin, somehow.

“Yes. I know he disappeared from the Medical Center. But I assure you he’s not here. I don’t know where—”

“I know he’s not here,” Master Windu told her, firmly, before turning to address C-3PO. “And you are sure this place is secure?”

“Absolutely,” C-3PO answered with conviction.

“Then I’ll be frank,” Master Windu turned back to Padme. “I have Ben Solo hidden in the Jedi Temple. He’s in bad shape.”

Padme’s heart soared. It wasn’t good news, exactly, but at least she now knew where he was.

“How bad?”

“The doctor suggested it might prompt him to wake if encouraged by a voice he’d recognize and respond to.”

He was still unconscious? That sounded bad.

“And since Rey is still off planet…” Master Windu continued before trailing off.

Ah, so Padme hadn't been Windu’s first choice. That was alright. Ben probably would respond better to Rey’s coaxing.

“I’d love to help in anyway I can,” Padme assured him.

However, it wasn't that simple. There was an issue that she needed to address. She wasn’t sure how much Master Windu knew about the dangers that the Republic currently faced, but if he had felt the need to relocate Ben then he must know _something_ was amiss. Besides, if she was going to go to the Jedi Temple with him then he needed to know about her current predicament..

“There’s just one problem,” she said. “I have reason to believe that my movement is being monitored.”

To her surprise, Master Windu nodded. “Luckily, I had anticipated that.” He gestured to the boy who had sat beside him throughout the conversation, munching cookies as quietly as he could. “I’d like you to meet Padawan Caleb Dume. He will be staying here, in your stead. With your permission, of course.”

“Of course,” Padme agreed, unsure how that would help. Until, Caleb stood and shed his outer robe, holding it up for her to fit herself into. Master Windu must have thought this through, as she and Caleb were around the same height. She drew the hood over her head and Caleb settled back into the sofa.

“C-3PO, please make Padawan Dume comfortable for his stay,” Padme said with a smile at the boy. “He is doing me a great service.”

“My pleasure,” Caleb replied, reaching again for the tray of cookies while Master Windu rolled his eyes.

“In that case, let us be on our way, Senator,” Master Windu said, standing.

And so, two robed figures had entered Padme Amidala’s apartment and two robed figures left.


	23. it never hurts to give thanks to the local gods; you never know who might be hungry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time: Maul didn't have a double bladed saber during the Siege of Mandalore. Cmedina1 pointed out that oversight in the comments of Ch. 21. I'm very grateful that they did because I completely missed it. I'm not changing anything about Ch.21 (because that's silly and I already had Maul's part here written when I'd posted that chapter), I'd just like to own up to actively ignoring aspects of canon now.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Younger" by The Mountain Goats.

Rey was a quick learner. She'd had to be to survive Jakku.

As for the Force…The Jedi claimed that their way was the true way to the light and Rey had learnt from them. But her first lessons were learnt from Kylo Ren; from necessity. From keeping her senses and her mind open.

She’d learnt from Luke Skywalker—both what he’d taught her and what he hadn’t meant for her to glean. She’d learnt from Han Solo and General Leia and Chewbacca. From her friends: Finn, Rose, and Poe. From a pile of moldy books. She’d learnt from Ben Solo and Ahsoka Tano. She’d learnt from Obi-Wan Kenobi, and even Anakin Skywalker.

To assume that someone had nothing of value to teach her was hubris of the highest degree.

The darksider rushed Obi-Wan with a howl.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem phased, as he blocked the twin blades like he did so every day. Rey would have been impressed by the mild Jedi’s skills if she wasn’t mesmerized by his enemy’s saberstaff. Still, their movements were fluid and graceful and unlike any battle Rey had ever witnessed or taken part in.

“I didn’t come here for a reunion, Maul,” Obi-Wan said as their lightsaber’s clashed.

Maul snarled, hitting Obi-Wan with a volley of attacks as he spoke. “You should _not_ ,” _clash_ , “have come here,” _clash_ , “ _AT ALL_ ,” _clash_ , “unless you were _prepared to die_!”

Rey could feel Obi-Wan’s frustration as he parried in the cramped space but she also felt anger. It had to have been Obi-Wan’s, it was being expelled almost as soon as it could form. She wondered what their story was but it would have to wait.

Rey noticed as they battled that their positions had switched, so that Maul stood close to Rey—who had attempted to stay out of the way—and Obi-Wan closer to the exit. And, if the rumble she now heard was an indication, then Maul was using the Force in an attempt to bring a portion of the ceiling down on Obi-Wan’s head.

He must have been so focused on Obi-Wan that he hadn’t noticed Rey. So when the ceiling began to give Rey dropped the pipe she’d picked up in an act of futility and pushed Obi-Wan with the Force. Willing him out of the way so that he was propelled out of the room and into the hallway, presumably safe on the other side of the pile of rubble that had been part of the ceiling.

Rey was trapped in the room with Maul, for the time being.

Maul growled in annoyance, taking in the mess she’d made of his murder attempt.

“I will destroy your new apprentice for her insolence!” He screamed at the rubble.

Obi-Wan must have been alright because there came a faint reply: “She’s not my Padawan.”

Rey huffed. Was this really the time for that?

Rey turned her attention to the seething darksider in the room with her. “You could do that,” she told him. She wouldn’t make it easy on him, but he was armed and she was not. He _could_ kill her. “ _Or_ you could teach me how to build one of _those_.” She pointed to his lightsaber.

“WHAT!” Obi-Wan yelled while Maul frowned at her in confusion.

“It’s not like you don’t have the time,” she reminded him, gesturing to the ruin of their exit.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get us out?” She called to Obi-Wan. “We needed to leave hours ago!”

“I’m trying!” Was Obi-Wan’s muffled reply. “But your attempts to get yourself _killed_ keep distracting me!”

“Stop eavesdropping,” Rey suggested. “It’s rude.” She turned back to Maul. “So? What do you say?”

“Teach you?” Maul had begun pacing the small space, regarding her; his saber still ignited. “You’d choose my apprenticeship over Kenobi’s?” His rough voice could not hide the cautious undertone from Rey’s ears.

“In this,” Rey clarified. “I’m used to fighting with a staff—I’ve used one to defend myself since I was a child.”

To her relief, Maul disengaged his lightsaber. He still stalked the room around her, though, now it seemed more discerning.

“I sense much anger in you,” he observed.

“Anger isn’t so bad,” she said with a shrug. There was no point in denying it. “It’s how you use it.”

“And how will you use it?” Maul asked, his voice a low rumble.

Rey considered his question. What would she do with the emotions that have piled up inside of her since Ilum? Since before? Since had she found herself on the _Invisible Hand_ , in an impossible situation? The answer was easy, even if Rey knew that the execution could destroy her.

“I’m going to kill Darth Sidious.”

Maul stopped in his tracks and stared at her, shocked by her answer.

“That’s what you would use this blade for?” He asked. “Why?”

“It has to be done.”

Maul narrowed his eyes. “Do NOT _lie_ to me,” he snarled, baring his teeth in threat.

Rey swallowed, she refused to be frightened into submission, but she was asking this man for a favor. He deserved the truth. “He hurt someone I love.”

“Revenge,” Maul purred, his eyes glinting, as if savoring the word.

It didn’t feel like revenge to Rey, it felt like a necessity, but she did not contradict him. It did _sound_ an awful lot like revenge.

“So will you teach me?”

Maul scoffed in amusement and Rey bristled at the easy dismissal even before he spoke.

“Let me be clear,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll succeed in this. However, on the off chance that you do… I want Sidious to look upon your blade and be reminded of me. I want him to know that I had a hand in its assembly. Tell me your name, apprentice.”

Rey smiled. It had been a gamble, asking for this strangers assistance, but she had followed her instincts. They were good instincts.

“I am Rey of Jakku.”

“And I am Maul, son of Dathomir.”

Rey bowed in a way she’d seen Padawans do at the Jedi Temple. She knew he wasn’t a Jedi, but Maul struck her as someone who would be pleased by the show of respect.

“I look forward to learning from you,” Rey said, earnestly.

Maul seemed to swell with pride. “Sit, apprentice,” he instructed, putting his arms behind his back.

Rey sank back to the floor and Maul joined her.

“We’re not meditating, are we?”

Maul raised a tattooed brow at her. “You could do with some meditation. Kenobi clearly hasn’t taught you patience.”

Rey scoffed. “I know all about waiting.”

Maul studied her for a moment. Perhaps, hearing more truth in her flippant statement than she’d intended.

“There is a time for patience,” he said, finally. “And there is a time for action. Any hunter knows this. Are you a hunter, Rey?”

Rey had hunted many things in her life: parts and shelter and purpose.

“Yes.”

“And have you hunted the core components to build what you seek?”

Rey withdrew the kyber crystals from her pocket. Realizing anew that there were two crystals. Had the Force led her to two, knowing she would want a double bladed saber as soon as she knew that was an option?

“Excellent. Now reach out.”

Rey extended her hand with the crystals in her palm. She half expected to get whacked for being literal (again) but Maul simply continued.

“Now, close your eyes and pour your _hatred_ into—”

“Don’t do that!” Obi-Wan could be heard calling through the rubble.

“SHE DID NOT ASK YOU!” Maul yell back, enraged at the interruption. Rey opened her eyes in time to see Maul roll his.

“Your intent then,” Maul amended in annoyance. “Or whatever it is you Jedi use.”

“Hope?”

“You're asking me?” Maul asked, incredulously. “Close your eyes.”

Rey did so.

“Now, pour your…emotion of choice into your components,” Maul instructed. “So long as it’s something you feel strongly. This will be the fuel you will use when you wield your blade. So it begins, so it ends.”

Rey did so, amassing her hopes into the core of her being and willing it into the kyber crystals. She could feel the stones take it, greedily, hungrily. And in her palm, she could feel them grow hot before they lifted off of her palm entirely.

“Yes, good,” Maul crooned. “Form the shape of your blade in your minds eye.”

Rey did so, imagining the blade she wanted. The same circumference as the staff she’d grown into on Jakku. The hilt, longer than Maul’s weapon, leaving more room for various grips. She didn’t honestly care so much about the type of metal or the color of the blades. All that mattered to Rey was that it was perfectly balanced.

“Do you have it?”

“Yes,” she answered. Excitement coursing through her. She will return to Coruscant, successful in her mission. She will rescue Ben. She will kill Palpatine, no matter what it might mean for the future. She will succeed because she must.

“Give your thoughts form,” Maul said, bringing her back to focus.

Rey couldn’t say for sure what he meant by this but she tried to imagine what the hilt would feel like in her palm; the weight and shape of it. She imagined how she’d carry it, how she would practice with it until wielding it was second nature; an extension of her own being—a testament to her strength.

Around the room she could hear the rustle of parts being moved around, clanking into each other and banging on the floor. Rey took this as a good sign.

The Force did not belong to her—Luke had taught her that—but it wasn’t wholly separate either. It could be used to execute her will. As it was now.

Rey had a lightsaber in mind and she would have the closest approximation that the Force could assemble for her with the junk in this room.

Rey asked and, when she felt a weight in her hand, she opened her eyes to behold the Force’s answer. In her palm lay a lightsaber, exactly as she’d imagined it. _Her lightsaber._

Every scrap of Obi-Wan’s junk pile had been used.

“Thank you,” she whispered. To the Force. To Maul. To Obi-Wan (who likely couldn’t hear her over the sound of shifting rubble).

Maul extended his hand and Rey handed the saber over. He inspected, examining the lightsaber from all directions and even pulling it apart in places to study its innards.

“A solid design,” Maul observed, mildly as he handed it back to her. “What color is it?”

Rey thought she knew already, but she ignited the blades anyway. Twin beams of violet erupted from both ends.

Beside her, Maul scoffed. “Not enough anger in you to make it bleed.”

“I don’t know about that,” Rey said, absently. She could be plenty angry, but there were other emotions too. Right now she was overcome with awe and pride. She was holding her very own lightsaber. In her time this would have been a near impossibility, but, here and now, Rey was allowed to reap the benefits of a bountiful galaxy. A galaxy before it was blighted by the Empire.

“I just enjoy it too much to hold onto my anger all the time.”

“Enjoy what?”

“Living.” Her answer came without a thought. She did enjoy it, didn’t she? So much of her life had improved since she’d left Jakku. It wasn’t always a joy. Oftentimes it was messy and confusing. It could even hurt her—deep in her heart and so much worse than any physical pain she had endured—but the instances of joy and wonder always made up for that. No matter how brief that happiness seemed to be looking back. It burned brighter in her memory than any suffering she’d endured.

Why had she ever wanted to go back to Jakku? She would have missed out on all of these opportunities if she’d continued to wait. Her whole life would have passed her by.

Rey disengaged her saber, a smile on her face, but when she glanced up Maul was looking at her skeptically.

“Come with us to Coruscant.”

She didn’t know what made her say it. Only that it seemed to her that Maul’s anger and ferociousness could be channeled toward a more worthy opponent than Obi-Wan.

Maul blinked at her in surprise. “With Kenobi?” He asked.

“To kill Sidious,” Rey clarified.

“With Kenobi.”

Now Rey frowned. “Why were you trying to kill Obi-Wan?”

“Revenge,” was Maul’s answer.

Rey frowned. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you but you can’t kill him. I need him.”

She hadn’t actually talked her assassinate-the-Emperor plan over with Obi-Wan but she could deal with that later.

Maul’s eyes narrowed. “Turning against me already, apprentice?”

Rey shook her head, disappointed. “You hate Sidious too.” He wouldn’t have helped her otherwise, right? “And he’s an enemy of the Jedi. Can’t you unite against a common enemy? A greater enemy?”

“I thought you were the one killing Sidious?” Maul mocked her.

“I wouldn’t mind having help,” Rey snapped. “Who do you hate more, then? Obi-Wan or Sidious?”

Maul gave her a look that was close enough to pity that Rey bristled. “It isn’t the same,” he said. “Kenobi is a rival. Sidious is…something else entirely.”

Rey crossed her arms, petulant. “Why bother helping me then? Why try to eliminate Sidious, at all? If you’re both on the same side.”

Maul studied her. “You said you used a staff to defend yourself with since your childhood. So I take it you were not raised amongst the Jedi.”

“No. I wasn’t”

He stared off, for a moment, as if far away.

“Darth Sidious took me from my family,” he admitted, haltingly. “Then—years later, when I had found them again—he killed them.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t been expecting that. Did that mean that Sidious had raised Maul? “You’re sure you won’t come? I could use your help.”

Maul looked at her disdainfully.

“I don’t work well in groups.”

Rey nodded. _That_ she understood. Being alone and having to rely on yourself for so long made being a part of something bigger, odd, for a while.

“Well,” she relented, not wanting to push her luck. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Maul glared at her, but before he could say anything more, something gave in the pile of rubble and debris cascaded, leaving an opening at the top large enough for Obi-Wan to peek through.

“Rey, are you alright?” He asked, his tone clipped with annoyance.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, standing so he could see her better from his limited vantage point. “I have a weapon now.” She held up the saber for Obi-Wan’s inspection only for him to roll his eyes.

“You do understand that if the two of you were to lend a hand then you’d have been out of that room already,” he pointed out, exasperation dripping from his voice.

“Oh—heh,” Rey laughed nervously. “About that.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes.

“What about it?” He asked.

“You might want to move.”

He gave her a quizzical look, but did as he was asked. Once Rey thought he had enough time to get clear she lifted her arm and removed the rubble. She had already learnt how to lift rocks. She had a good grasp on that Force technique.

She set the debris in neat piles out of the way and Obi-Wan stood, dumbfounded, on the other side of the previously blocked doorway.

She turned to Maul to say goodbye, but he was gone.

“Where did he—?”

Obi-Wan was coming toward her and pointed up—through the ruined ceiling. She had forgotten about the opening there.

* * *

In the end, Obi-Wan gave chase but Maul got away. Rey did not aid in the chase.

“I hope you’re happy,” Obi-Wan snapped at her when he and the clones who had helped in the pursuit of Maul return to the base.

Rey tried to not let his aggravation bother her. She was incredibly satisfied with her lightsaber and weren’t the Jedi the ones that keep saying ‘all is as the Force wills it’? Sure, she hoped that the clone that Maul attacked recovered and there was a persistent feeling of guilt about sharing Anakin’s secrets. But, she had her own lightsaber and she may have made a friend, or at least an ally.

She didn’t share any of this with Obi-Wan. “I saved your life,” she reminded him instead. “You would have been crushed.”

Obi-Wan grumbled but said nothing else about it. He did have good news, however: They were leaving for Coruscant before nightfall. Rey ignited with excitement at the prospect.

She was jittery with anticipation for the rest of the day but unable to find an outlet. The whole base seemed to know what had happened and avoided her, for the most part. How gossip spreads like a flame on dry wood, Rey would never understand.

With nothing else to do to pass the hours while Obi-Wan made arrangements, Rey wandered the base. After a while, she stumbled across Ahsoka, who stood absently in the middle of a hallway, frowning down at a datapad in her hand.

“Everything alright?” Rey asked.

Ahsoka looked up, blinking. “Oh, hey, yeah,” she pressed a button on the datapad that cleared the screen, making it impossible for Rey to know what she’d been fretting over.

“Working?”

“Always,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“Anything I can help with?” Rey asked.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Not unless you can figure out how to perform brain surgery on millions of clones nearly simultaneously.”

“Obi-Wan seemed optimistic,” Rey said, the encouragement sounding weak to her own ears. She realized that she had never really thought about how many clones there actually were.

“I know,” Ahsoka sighed. “I just worry for them.”

Rey could understand that. Even if she was starting to feel guilty that she had convinced Obi-Wan to leave his mission on Mandalore behind. If only he hadn’t impeded her attempt to leave him here, she wouldn’t have had to resort to telling him about Luke and Leia. She should have realized that _someone_ would have to deal with the mess. “I’m sorry. About being so snappish when we first spoke.”

“You were a bit snippy,” Ahsoka said with a smirk. “It’s okay, though. You were worried about your friend. Obi-Wan mentioned that the two of you were _close_. Did you accept that Anakin would watch over him?”

“Oh, no,” Rey shook her head. “I’m still worried.”

“Then why are you…nicer?”

Did she not know?

“I told Obi-Wan about Anakin breaking his vows,” Rey admitted. “We’re leaving.”

“You didn’t!” Ahsoka gasped. She put her hands on her hips, indignant. “Do you not understand the repercussions that will have?”

“Anakin won’t be punished,” Rey said in her defense. “Not really.”

“I meant for Padme!”

Oh. Rey hadn’t really considered that.

“It would have gotten out eventually,” she said petulantly. “Those children will be strong with the Force.”

Ahsoka huffed, crossing her arms, the datapad still held loosely in one hand. “You’re something else. Do you know that?”

Rey probably deserved Ahsoka’s disdain. All she’d managed to do since setting foot on Mandalore was disrupt Ahsoka’s operation and increase her burdens.

“Do you really know Anakin’s children?” Ahsoka asked.

Rey’s mind blanked. Her and her big mouth. Had she really told another person about time travel?

“Obi-Wan told Rex and I that you are from the future,” Ahsoka said in the face of Rey’s panicked expression. “It’s a bit far fetched for Rex but…I’ve witnessed the Force do some weird stuff.”

“Good,” Rey said, relieved that the reveal wasn’t on her this time. “Yes. I knew his children. Although, they were obviously not children when I met them. They’re older than Obi-Wan.”

Ahsoka smiled at the thought. “That would make Anakin a withered old man.”

“Uh—Something like that. You really are fond of him, huh?”

“He’s the kindest, strongest, most unique Jedi I’ve ever met. I miss him,” she admitted.

“Why can’t you go see him?”

“Uhh,” Ahsoka looked at Rey incredulously and then made a point to look at their surroundings. “I have a siege to oversee.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“If only you had killed Maul; I could have gone to see Anakin.”

Rey frowned at the insinuation. She’d never even considered trying to kill Maul. “It’s better to make a friend than an enemy. Besides,” she held up her lightsaber, showing off. “Have you seen this lightsaber?”

Ahsoka snorted. “Sure, but can you use it?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Ahsoka smiled and led Rey to an empty room.

“We use this for hand to hand training, mostly,” she explained. “Not many people with lightsabers around for me to spar with anymore.”

“Except Maul.”

Ahsoka looked unimpressed. “That’s different.”

Ahsoka used two sabers—one in each hand—and she was quick, almost faster than Rey could see. So she opened herself up to the Force—let it guide her movements.

It was _much_ different than sparing with Ben. But the thrill of having her own lightsaber and finally _using_ it, eclipsed the worry over Ben, momentarily.  Even her worry over Obi-Wan’s reaction—making her feel like she’d done something wrong despite what she felt—seemed to evaporate for the time being.

Besides, Ahsoka’s style was so different from Ben’s that it was exhilarating, it was all Rey could do to keep up! But she tried to give as good as she got.

“Who taught you how to fight like that?” She asked when Ahsoka finally suggested they take a breather.

“Anakin.” Was her answer and Rey felt like she should have anticipated that. “He was an exceptional Master.”

“Then why did you quit?”

Ahsoka’s face fell and Rey realized that this was, perhaps, a sore spot, and obviously topic that Ahsoka wouldn’t want to discuss with a relative stranger.

“I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude of me to ask. Don’t feel like you have to answer— ”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka said over Rey’s attempt to backpedal. “I just forget that everyone doesn’t know. It took me by surprise.”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Ahsoka shrugged her tense shoulders, aiming for nonchalant and missing it by miles. “There are Jedi who disagree with the war and the Order’s involvement,” she said, voice strained. “Some to a violent degree.”

She paused, seemed to rally herself and continued: “A few months ago, one of those Jedi framed me for an attack on the Temple…The Jedi Council agreed to expel me from the Jedi Order—absolving me from the legal protections that I was allowed as a ward of the Order.”

“They disowned you.” Rey was coming to realize that there were many different types of family, and they didn’t always mean belonging. Not forever.

“That’s one way to look at it,” she said, fidgeting and looking away from Rey. Visibly uncomfortable with that way of looking at it. “Anyway, I was prosecuted. I was found guilty. I was slated for execution,” she stated these things quickly, factually. “But Anakin _never_ doubted me. He hunted down the Jedi who was really at fault and cleared my name. The Council apologized. I was reinstated but…being in the Order didn’t feel right after that.”

Rey scoffed, outraged on Ahsoka’s behalf. “I imagine it wouldn’t. I’m so sorry that happened to you, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka shrugged again. “It’s behind me now.”

 _Barely_ , Rey thought.

“Do you want to know what the worst part was?” Ahsoka asked.

Rey’s heart sank. “It gets worse?”

“The Jedi who framed me…she was my friend.”

This soft, sad admission from Ahsoka was too much for Rey. “Come back to Coruscant with us.”

“What?!”

“You can see Anakin. It would probably do him good to speak with you. He’s been…stressed.”

Ahsoka looked at Rey as if she’d lost her mind. “I already told you. I can’t leave. I’m needed here. I’m going to have to help remove _a lot_ of inhibitor chips.”

“Surely they can manage without you?”

Ahsoka shook her head sadly at Rey.

“Don’t you get it?” She asked with disappointment.

Rey was clearly missing something about the situation.

“We are both trying to save our family,” Ahsoka told her and Rey is astonished to realize that Ahsoka meant the clone troopers.

Rey couldn’t say why she was surprised, exactly. Perhaps she assumed that Ahsoka still considered the Jedi Order her family, despite her insistence that she wasn’t a Jedi. She had thought that that was the reason Ahsoka was still in the Grand Army of the Republic. Because of her devotion to the Order.

She knew better now.

People needed other beings to connect with. To call family.

This was where Ahsoka belonged, with her family of clones. Rey needed to return to where she belonged.

* * *

Obi-Wan knew he shouldn’t leave this operation in the hands of Rex and Ahsoka. They were competent but the extraction of the inhibitor chip from _every_ clone in the galaxy was too important to be passed off. It required coordination and a deft hand and…

He should stay. He should oversee and offer assistance and…

Anakin was going to get kicked out of the Order.

Obi-Wan cared too much about that. He was too attached, he knew it. Rey seemed to think that it wouldn’t be his downfall.

She didn’t think she was Jedi material.

Perhaps she would not fit in with the Jedi Order as it was in this time, but Obi-Wan saw her actions. She was already a good Jedi. Obi-Wan doubted very much that it was anything he or the other Masters had taught her to make her so.

She was what Qui-Gon thought the Jedi ought to be. A being brimming with compassion, who flouted rules and convention, who paid special attention to the pulse of the Living Force.

Obi-Wan had heard her speak to Maul. It wasn’t how a Jedi spoke to a Sith. Or even how someone in the light spoke to someone in the dark. It was a conversation; one person to another.

He had been in awe of that, and a bit cautious of it.

“Are you still mad at me?” Rey asked, flippant as anything as she threw herself onto the co-pilot’s chair of the shuttle. She was the picture of carelessness, but Obi-Wan was starting to be able to see beyond the petty facade she sometimes wore. There were worry lines pulling down her mouth; a tightness to her eyes. They weren’t scheduled to depart for another twenty minutes.

“I was never angry with you,” Obi-Wan said. “Your focus determines your reality. I’ve never seen someone who embodies that saying as much as you do.”

Rey was silent for a moment. Taking that in. Taking it for what it was worth.

“Then what’s wrong?” She finally asked, voice impossibly small.

Should he tell her? Probably not. It was in the past now. It wasn’t anything to her. But, she had asked and Obi-Wan found himself wishing to talk about it, after the events of the day. Besides, what good was keeping this in his heart? He’d tried to release the hurt into the Force but it never seemed to work. A shard of it always seemed to stay behind, like a thorn festering underneath the skin.

“Maul has killed people close to me.”

Now she turned those compassionate eyes on him.

“You don’t have to forgive him for that,” she said, much to his surprise.

“Don’t I?” Obi-Wan said with a self-deprecating laugh. Was that why the hurt lingered? Because he couldn’t forgive? “I’m a Jedi. We don’t hold grudges.”

“Why not?” Rey asked, almost sadly. “You’re not…immune to emotion.”

“No, I’m not.”

Rey shook her head. “You’re a person, Obi-Wan. You’re allowed to be upset. To work your way through grief as quickly or as slowly as suits you.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Grieving?”

Rey just shrugged because how would she know exactly what he was feeling? She could speculate, she could empathize, but it wasn’t her responsibility to recognize Obi-Wan’s emotions.

Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead, feeling tired. Had he ever really grieved for them? Satine’s death happened so suddenly. One moment she was alive and yelling at him outside of the Senate Dome and then, in the blink of an eye, he was holding her lifeless body in his arms. Her death had promptly been eclipsed by the war and his duty to the Jedi.

Wasn’t Qui-Gon’s death the same? The war hadn’t started but Obi-Wan had been Knighted immediately after and suddenly had a Padawan to worry about.

There hadn’t been time.

“Will you tell me about them?” Rey asked, in the silence of the cockpit.

Obi-Wan found that he really did wish to tell her.

“It started with my training Master, Qui-Gon Jinn,” he began.

Rey’s brow furrowed with recognition. “The man who found Anakin?”

“Yes. He had intended to train him himself—Maul killed him before he was able. It happened before my eyes.”

Rey’s eyes flashed as something unknowable to him connecting her to that statement. Her jaw tightened with unhappiness.

“I pursued Maul afterward,” he continued, leaving her to her thoughts.

“You scarred him?”

Scarred? How specific. “I cut him in two,” he clarified.

Rey’s brows rose in surprise, clearly not expecting the brutality. “And now he wants revenge on you for that.” It wasn’t a question.

“He’s already taken it.”

Rey chewed on her lip, unsure. “Violence is a spiral,” she said, sagely. “It moves outwards. I know how satisfying it can be.”

“And how would you suggest I get out of that spiral?”

“Let Maul be another Jedi’s problem or…”

“Or?”

Rey sighed. “Give him the chance to find his own light, if he can.”

“Could _you_ do such a thing?”

Rey shrugged. “Probably not.”

Obi-Wan scoffed and sat back. What an absurd idea. It was almost delusional enough to be something Satine would suggest. Is that how she would like her memory honored? With passivity?

“Who was the other person?”

“Hmm?”

“You said Maul killed _people_ close to you,” Rey reminded him. “You only mentioned one.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and looked out of the viewport to the landscape of Mandalore. It was scarred now. The war had left craters in the ground and toppled buildings and pockmarked nearly every surface with scorch marks. It had been so clean when it was under the care of Satine Kryze.

“The Duchess of Mandalore,” Obi-Wan said.

“It wasn’t very long ago,” Rey guessed.

“No,” he agreed. “It was not.”

Lost in his thoughts, Obi-Wan jumped when he felt a pair of slim arms wrap around his shoulders. Rey had risen from her seat and apparently decided that he needed a hug.

“What was she like?” She asked, not letting go.

Obi-Wan brought his arms up, relinquishing himself to the comfort that Rey was trying to offer.

“Satine was…a bright point, in a dark universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how ya'll thought Rey was going to _fight_ Maul? With what? That pipe she picked up? Can you imagine how well that would have gone?
> 
> Also, if you like Maul and haven't listened to [It's a Maulvelous Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYwsDK3s3Mo) I highly recommend it. It's very funny and informative and the presenter's enthusiasm for the character is infectious.


	24. rise through the smoke. the dust of the grave. i will be saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my ass. I think at this point it should go without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that, since the chapters are getting longer they are going to take me longer to finish. I'll still try to get them up as soon as possible, because I don't like to sit on a chapter for too long, but I won't be able to keep up my chapter-every-weekend pace.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Luna" by The Mountain Goats.

Mace snuck Padme into the Jedi Temple and deposited her in what she assumed was Ben’s room, which had been outfitted with a bed and various medical equipment.

Mace didn’t linger and Padme couldn’t say that she minded. Talking to an unresponsive person would be awkward enough without an onlooker. She respected Master Windu—was pleased that he had thought of her for this—but he was being secretive when every instinct of hers ached to be candid. It was for the best that he wasn’t hovering. Given her mood, she’d likely tell him everything.

As it was, Padme sank into a chair beside the too narrow bed that Ben had been laid on and waited until the door closed behind the Jedi Master. Then she reached out to grasp Ben’s hand in both of hers.

“Thank you,” she said, pouring every ounce of her gratitude for Ben into those words. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Ben had saved her life twice now and he had never been properly thanked for the first time. She may not know what had happened after he had put her to sleep but she was certain that, had he not done everything in his power to keep her safe, then her life—and therefore the lives of her children—would have been over. Now she had the chance to see her children safely born before fate came for her.

Her gratitude wasn’t just for those lives. It was for listening too.

Padme bowed her head over his hand, touching it to her forehead and then her lips.

“Thank you, Ben.”

She sat like that for a long while, holding his hand and babbling. She talked about nothing and everything, as her insecurities and fears poured out of her. She was sure to keep her voice low, for Ben’s ears only; like sharing her secrets.

That’s what she was doing, she realized. Sharing her secrets. Everything that she’d kept buried deep inside of her for so long emerged. And for once, owning those gloomy thoughts didn’t bother her.

It was a relief to let them out—to let them go.

She talked about how astonished and hurt she was that Palpatine, her mentor and friend, was at his core, a malicious man who had, undoubtedly used them all.

She talked about how her memories of being Queen of Naboo were tainted with resentment because she had watched many of her friends die while wearing the mask of Amidala. How she didn’t know if she should blame the deaths of those handmaidens on Palpatine and his war or on herself—on her naivety.

She talked about how being a public figure was all about hiding behind one mask or another. Wearing the heavy make-up as Queen had taught her how to conceal certain parts of herself; to protect them from prying eyes. She had learnt to hide her emotions, hide her intentions, hide the parts of herself that were sensitive or soft.

So that, by the time she'd removed the make-up for the last time and traded Naboo for Coruscant, she hadn’t even needed the process of applying a new face. Hiding had become instinctual. It was necessary—for her safety, for her privacy, for her sanity—to separate Amidala from Naberrie.

She talked about how she worried that Naberrie was gone. Carved away with the parts of herself that were unnecessary to Amidala’s work.

Did anyone know Padme Naberrie anymore? Would _Padme_ recognize her?

And if, in a time not so different from this one, Palpatine convinced Anakin to kill her, then who did he kill? Amidala or Naberrie? And why did the distinction matter to her when the result was the same?

Padme gave voice to her deepest fears. A string of unanswered questions that spiraled through her head on a constant loop. Fears such as: “Did I spend my life putting my hope into something that was already broken? How can I fix it? How do I move on? How can I separate the salvageable from the ruin? I know I have to do something. I can’t go on like this. But what do I do? What hope do I have?”

“Mom?”

Padme startled out of her rambling. Ben hadn’t moved but his eyelids fluttered. His head was turned slightly, so that he was looking at her, but his eyes remained unfocused.

“Mom.” His voice was faint, barely above a whisper, but choked with emotion.

Padme squeezed his hand. “I’m right here, Ben. You're not alone.”

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t try to correct him, other than that he wasn’t fully awake yet. If believing that his mother was there with him helped him wake then Padme could do that.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he said, his voice slurred and sluggish, as though he were fighting to get the words out. “Sorry. ‘m sorry. Sorry. Mom. Mom…”

“I know, Ben.” Padme shushed him, stroking his hair. She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for and didn’t think it was her right to ask or absolve. “I know.”

Ben’s frantic apologies dissolved into incoherent murmurs and Padme said what she thought any mother would say, even to a child who had grown up to do bad things.

“I love you.”

Ben whimpered. Then fell quiet. Padme sat back in her seat without letting go of his hand.

This wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned his mother around her—or even associated her with the woman. Padme could tell how much he missed his mother, how much he longed to make amends.

It also put her in mind of something else. Something that Anakin had told her that she’d overlooked in all of the turmoil of the past few days. Namely, that Ben’s grandfather had killed her. And today, Anakin had assumed that role. Which meant—she should have figured it out sooner but with everything that had happened with Anakin…well, now her heart swelled at the thought.

For the first time in days Padme felt _hope_. Even if she was dead, her children grew and loved and had families of their own.

On the tails of that hope came another emotion that Padme had been unable to feel for hours. She was _finally_ _furious_.

When Anakin had told her that he was responsible for her death she hadn’t been angry with him and that scared her. She should be outraged! When did she resign herself to death?

The flames of anger were licking at her from all sides, now. She was angry at the broken family that had let Ben fall. At Anakin, for taking her away from a family she wanted, desperately, to be a part of. Mostly she was angry at herself.

She had allowed herself to believe that her death was inevitable—that she had one foot in the grave already. But it wasn’t inevitable because Ben was _here_ and he _wanted_ her to live. He had told her so.

Was that what Anakin had meant when he'd said Ben’s objective was to ‘kill the past’? If so, it was quite the undertaking.

Still, just because she'd realized this didn’t mean that the feelings of hopelessness went away. But now, Padme could recognize them for what they were. She now had hope that she could combat those morbid thoughts that had invaded her mind.

A while later Mace returned with a pitcher of water for her and Padme told him about Ben’s brief bought of consciousness.

“You’ll have him up in no time, Senator,” he said while pouring water into a cup and handing it to her. “Thank you.”

Padme didn’t feel like she had done anything worth gratitude but she accepted the offered glass of water, nonetheless. She had done a lot of talking and her throat was parched and aching.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Mace continued as Padme sipped on her drink. “Would you like to go back to your apartment to rest? Or perhaps I can lay out a futon? Are you hungry?”

Padme considered his offers. She was far from tired but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. “Some food would be welcome,” she admitted. “And I don’t suppose you’d let me comm my mother?” She was only half joking.

She hadn't spoken to Jobal—really spoken—in so long that she didn’t even know what she’d say. Where she would start. She just knew that recent events and Ben and the twins and Anakin and everything was weighing on her in such a way that she ached for the comfort that her mother had been able to give her, once.

Also, Ben was here, alone. Clearly wishing on some level, subconscious or otherwise, to make amends with his mother, but he couldn’t. Padme didn’t have any excuse.

Mace gave her a stern frown that reminded her of the amount of secrecy he had went through to get her into the Temple. Likely to get Ben to safety as well. She wasn’t aware of how many other Jedi knew what was going on, just that Mace refused to let her lower the hood of her borrowed Jedi robes until they were in the room with Ben.

“That would be a breach of what little security we have established here,” he reminded her. “I don’t think I need to tell you how precarious our safety is at this time. Not many people know that Ben is being treated here. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Padme was growing incredibly weary of secrecy.

“I assume this means that you know about Palpatine,” she hedged.

Mace looked at her critically for a moment. “I had wondered about the extent of your knowledge in regards to the Chancellor.”

“Then allow me to be transparent, Master Windu, because secrecy is what has gotten the Republic into this mess,” Padme set her glass aside and leveled him with a somber stare. “Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord who is using the war to elevate himself into a permanent seat of power over the galaxy. I can only speculate as to the extent of his designs, however, it is reasonable to assume that the scope far outpaces my imagination.”

Mace’s expression remained impassive. “You know this for certain?”

Padme wasn’t too worried about the question, Mace must at least suspect, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken such great strides to hide Ben inside the safety of the Jedi Temple.

“I have no evidence,” Padme admitted. “Other than what I witnessed in my office. It left little room for doubt.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Senator,” Mace sighed in what seemed like relief. “I feel optimistic to have you on the side of truth and mitigation. Ben has tried to warn us for some time about Palpatine however, certain…vocal factions within the Council did not see the need for his aid. Ben’s…” Mace paused, searching for a word. “Cohort, the Jedi Initiate, Rey—”

“We’ve met.”

Mace blinked. “Oh, well, good. Rey forced General Kenobi and myself to listen to the truth only a short time ago.”

Padme nodded, pleased to hear that Rey was trying to make a positive change in the galaxy as well. If Ben was focused on his family then it was good that Rey’s scope was larger.

Mace paused again, eyeing her suspiciously. “I’m sure you’re wondering how they knew this.”

“I—Oh,” Padme startled, remembering too late that she wasn’t supposed to know that Ben and Rey were from the future. “Yes. That. How—“

“Save it,” Mace pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I assume that Ben told you at some point.”

He would be assuming wrongly but Padme didn’t correct him.

“The future is ever changing,” Mace said. “But that does not mean we are stuck with events as they could be. We can grow. We can change. We will have to. This knowledge wasn’t supposed to leave the Jedi Council,” he told her. “But, honestly, the fact that you’re already up to speed just saves me the trouble of trying to convince you of the truth.”

“I’m not going to apologize that I was trusted with this information,” Padme told him. “Who all knows about the Chancellor?”

“I’ve shared the news with only a few Jedi, whom I trust,” Mace told her. “There is much to do, if we are going to avoid the future that Ben and Rey arrived from, and very few who will go against the decisions of Master Yoda to do so.”

Padme swallowed. The Grand Master wasn’t onboard? That was disheartening but she wouldn’t resign herself to failure again.

“If there is anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask. I may be confined to Coruscant for the time being, but I have trusted contacts on Naboo who I can mobilize, if need be.”

Mace leveled her with a flat stare. “Like you mother?” He asked, sarcastically.

“That’d be a start,” Padme answered in earnest.

Mace regarded her for a long moment. “If you can deploy discreet manpower to the 212th Attack Battalion, we could use the help.

“The 212th?” Padme asked. “Isn’t that Obi-Wan’s battalion?”

“Officially,” he relented. “However, they are currently helping Master’s Ti and Billaba. There is a matter of the inhibitor chips that were implanted into the clones upon construction, that must be attended to, quickly and quietly. Master Ti has configured instructions for their removal but there are a lot of clones scattered across the galaxy.”

Padme nodded in understanding. “I can supply you with a loyal force, Master Windu. I am sure of it.”

Mace raised an eyebrow at her. “As much as I’ve come to trust your competency, why the vehemence, Senator?”

“Naboo has sparked a Sith Lord,” she reminded him. “Allow us to smother the source of that wrong before its flames are fanned out of our control.”

Mace reached into his robes and pulled out a handheld holoprojector. “I trust you,” he said as he held it out to her, his expression grave.

* * *

Although the chrono stated that it was the early morning on Coruscant, it was night time on Naboo. In her haste, Padme hadn’t accounted for that, but waking her mother from what was likely a sound sleep could only underscore the urgency of the situation.

Still, Jobal answered, a robe thrown over her night clothes and a stern expression on her face when the frequency coalesced into a low quality, blue-tinted, hologram. That expression cleared into one of relief when she saw who was contacting her at such an hour.

Just looking at her mother caused a host of emotions to surge inside of Padme. She was glad she had recorded the message for the Queen before contacting Jobal, as she would likely be unable to relay her instructions clearly after this conversation.

She imagined where her mother sat to take this call in Padme’s childhood home. (In the den, beside the large, tall window, in Jobal’s favorite chair; the one that was straight backed but plush with soft cushions.) Picturing it, Padme was there and she wasn’t. But she could remember the smell of the incense that her mother burned and the memories of late night chats sitting in that very spot came rushing back. Memories of tea shared and truths told and love, given and received.

Padme could feel tears streaming down her face for want of home. She didn’t try to stop them. For once, she wasn’t ashamed.

“Padme, love,” Jobal started when all Padme could manage were a few pathetic sniffles. “Thank goodness! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.”

“Have you?” Padme asked, surprised out of her tears for now. She hadn’t anticipated having such a strong reaction to only seeing her mother. “I’m sorry, momma. I haven’t checked my messages.”

“There was news of an attempt on your life. That you were nearly shot!”

Padme almost laughed. Her mother was working from old news. Then again, the attack in her office by the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic might not be public knowledge.

“I’m sorry. I _was_ nearly shot. Then I was asleep for a while.”

Jobal’s eyes narrowed. “Stop apologizing, dear. Are you alright?”

Padme started to nod, but had to physically stop herself. She looked across the room to where Ben still slept. She had called Jobal for truth. Called to ask for help. She couldn’t start with a lie.

“No, momma.” Padme’s voice broke as her chin trembled. “I’m not alright.”

“Padme,” Jobal breathed, her brows pinched in concern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Padme swallowed thickly. “I can’t tell you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“You can,” Jobal shook her head. “You were always very good at keeping secrets, my Padme, at acting like you’re fine, but something is weighing on you.”

Padme attempted to steel herself. She hadn’t decided beforehand how much to tell her mother. She just knew that she _needed_ to talk to her. Really talk, not those stilted, guarded conversations she’d been having with Jobal for the last couple of years. Padme had started keeping secrets from Jobal, so it was up to Padme to fix that.

“I’ve been having terrible thoughts, momma,” she admitted, crying anew. What if she really did die? In childbirth or otherwise. Would she ever see Naboo again? Would she see her mother again? Feel her arms around her?

"I've been thinking about death."

That was the hardest thing she’d ever had to admit to her mother. The woman who had given her life, raised her and cared for her. That she had spent days planning for her death. Consumed with thoughts and resignation and acceptance when she should have been raging against the thought of leaving behind everyone she loved.

“After I was sent home from the Medcenter, I wanted to go back to sleep,” she continued, unable to look at the holo of her mother. “I just wanted to let it bury me and stay in that numbness. I don’t like feeling like this, momma. I’m frightened and I’m lonely and I’m crumbling.”

Padme swallowed, trying not to let the tears turn into sobs. Trying her hardest to get this feeling out of her. She was grateful that Jobal let her speak without interruption. She glanced up at the holo and the expression on Jobal’s face nearly broke her. To see her own sorrow mirrored back at her on the face of her mother.

“I should be so happy,” Padme cried, rubbing one hand over her belly while wiping her face with the other. She hadn’t told her mother about her pregnancy—hadn’t spoken the words—yet, surely she could tell. Wasn’t it obvious, even through the holoprojector? “I should be in a state of bliss but, those feelings are so rare that I’m sure I’m a bad person.” She was sure she’s going to be a horrible mother because she should be happy.

“Padme,” Jobal said, her voice heartbroken. “You’re not a bad person. And you’re not crumbling just because you’re feeling the weight of these dark times. Your work is so demanding, my child and it has made you are a pillar. But even pillars need reinforced, occasionally. Let me wake your father. We can be on Coruscant to support you in a day—”

“No!” Padme cried. Why had she not considered that? She should have known that her mother would want to come to her. “I don’t want you to come here. It’s not safe. I just...I needed to _talk_ to someone. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Padme, love, where is this coming from?”

How could she say this without breaking?

“I’ve been looking at my choices from a new point of view. I don’t like what I’m finding,” she admitted, voice small. She didn’t want to stop being Naboo’s representative in the Senate but she knew now that the democracy she’d defended so tirelessly for so long was an illusion. What did she do with that information? More so, she didn’t want her marriage or children to be a secret anymore. She didn’t want to die and leave her children; never to see them grow into their own people. She didn’t want Anakin to kill her but she didn’t want him to pull away from her either. She couldn’t have all of this. No matter how much she wanted it. She didn’t feel like she had control over any of it, even though they were her decisions. It was her future.

“I don’t know where to make changes or how,” she told her mother, her voice coming out in a pathetic wail that she hated. “No matter how I look at my situation, I can’t figure out how to change anything without losing something else.”

Jobal smiled sadly. “We must make sacrifices for our happiness and wellbeing, Padme. You can’t be everything.”

Padme started crying again, her mother knowing just what to say to strike her through. She knew what parts of herself, of her life, would have to be cut back to shore up the other, more important parts. She knew, but that didn’t mean it would be easy or that she wouldn’t grieve her life as she had known it.

“Shhh, my dear, please. Tell me how I can help you.”

"Don't come here,” Padme pleaded. “Please don’t come to Coruscant.”

“I don’t like this,” Jobal said with a worried frown. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

Padme glanced at Ben again. “I’m not alone. Or, at least I won’t be for long.” She hoped. “I'll—I'm coming home." She decided in an instant. "Give me a few days to make arrangements and I'll come to you."

“At least let me come help you pack."

"No! Coruscant isn't safe right now,” she reminded her mother. “But you can do something for me."

“Anything.”

Padme took a deep, calming breath. “I have recorded a message for the Queen that I need you to hand deliver,” she told her. She trusted her mother, more than anything. Jobal would do this for her, for the Jedi, and the Republic. “It’s of the utmost importance, momma. And secrecy.”

Jobal agreed, although Padme could tell that she didn’t like the concession; that she would much rather hop on a ship and come straight to her child in need. In the past, Padme would have brushed aside her mother’s concern. Now, Padme could empathize with it.

She agreed to another holo-call. She even scheduled a time, with the certainty that if she were to miss Jobal’s transmission, then she would only be able to avoid her mother in the time it took Jobal to get from Naboo to Coruscant.

For the first time in her life, her mother’s overwhelming concern was far from chafing. It felt like relief.

* * *

Anakin should probably go to the Temple now. It was dawn on Coruscant. Palpatine had forced him to jump through hours of verbal hoops. To gauge his commitment, Anakin supposed.

He’d had to tell him more than he’d wanted to. He’d told him which Jedi were likely to be converted—with the right story. He told him everything he’d learnt from Ben and Rey. Palpatine wanted Rey alive for further questioning but that was something he’d have to wait for. Obi-Wan and Rey were likely on their way back.

He’d wanted to know where the Jedi kept their lists of Force sensitive children. That was something Anakin was relieved he couldn’t help with. Only Masters had access to those records. Still, Palpatine seemed to take it in stride. He seemed to think that he’d have access to the knowledge of the Temple before long.

As for his plans, well, that he wouldn’t share with Anakin yet. It was fine. Anakin would have to just keep working Palpatine over. He’d know eventually, and when he did he could think up a way to thwart the plan.

The only real worrying part was how, sometimes, Palpatine still made so much sense to Anakin. At one point in the night Palpatine had fished for more information about Ben’s death and Anakin had admitted that killing the unconscious man felt dishonorable.

“A necessary evil, I’m afraid,” Palpatine had told him with a sigh. “And a small price to pay for your family’s safety, I would think.”

Anakin hadn’t had to fake the relief he’d felt hearing those words. Of course that was a small price. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t _actually_ killed Ben, because he knew that, if circumstances had been slightly different, he would have.

And that scared him.

So, Anakin hadn’t slept now in…well, since Padme had drugged him, if that counted as sleep, and he still hadn't sought out Mace for the answers that were owed him. He really ought to go to the Temple but…but Padme hadn’t changed out of her medical scrubs and the longer he had to think on that the worse it sat with him.

He knew that he shouldn’t impose himself on her, but it couldn’t hurt to stop by the apartment to check on her. Maybe take a nap. It wouldn’t seem odd if he was seen going to her apartment. Palpatine knew about them—it would likely seem more odd to the Sith if his prospective apprentice went straight to the Jedi Temple.

Bearing all of this in mind Anakin went to Padme’s apartment. He parked his speeder on the landing pad attached to the balcony and was let into the apartment by a cheerful C-3PO.

“Master Anakin! You’re up bright and early!”

“I haven’t slept yet,” Anakin assured him as he walked past the droid and into the apartment.

“Oh my. That’s not good for organics. You really ought to consider taking better care of yourself.”

“I’ll take it under advisement. How’s Padme this morning? Is she awake yet?”

Before C-3PO could answer the balcony door shut behind Anakin, taking with it the cacophony of Coruscant. Without that noise, Anakin could make out the sounds of one of Padme’s favorite holodramas wafting through the apartment.

“Oh good! She’s already awake.” Perhaps he was worried for nothing.

“Well, actually—” C-3PO started but Anakin had already walked past him and into the sitting room to find—a strange boy sleeping on the sofa. The kid was surrounded by empty cups and wrappers and covered in crumbs.

Anakin surveyed the scene, at a momentary loss. He turned to C-3PO, who had followed him into the room. “Who’s that?” He asked, pointing at the kid.

“His name is Caleb Dume, Master Anakin,” C-3PO told him, helpfully explaining nothing.

“Why is he here?”

“He’s filling in for Mistress Padme.”

“Wha—How? In what capacity?”

“Heat signature, I presume.”

Confused, Anakin let out a humorless laugh. Surely, he was missing something; his mind was slow after so long without sleep. C-3PO must be joking and he just hadn’t figured out the punchline yet.

“Ok, I’ll bite,” Anakin finally said, giving up on working out this puzzle for himself. “Why does Padme need a heat signature decoy…” As soon as the words left his mouth, he understood. “She’s not here, is she?”

“No, Master. She is not.”

“Wha—Wher—Why?” Anakin cried, rubbing his forehead. A pain was forming behind his eyes. He was so tired.

“Well, I—Oh,” C-3PO said, with a mild tone of surprise. “You know, I don’t think I’m at liberty to say.”

Anakin looked at him in disbelief. Was he joking _now_? Was this revenge for checking the apartment for bugs earlier? For not taking him at his word. Or had he really been given orders not to tell Anakin?

Irritated, Anakin stalked across the room to shake Caleb Dume awake. He was probably being rougher then he should, as the kid woke with a cry and rolled off of the sofa and onto the floor, but he was at his wits end with everything. He needed answers, now.

“Where’s Padme?” Anakin demanded as the boy scrambled, fearfully, onto his feet.

“I—wha—you’re Knight Skywalker!”

“So I've been told,” Anakin snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you in Senator Amidala’s apartment?”

“Why are _you_?”

Where did Padme get this sassy child and why did he look familiar?

“You’re Master Billaba’s Padawan!” Anakin cried, as it dawned on him. He’d seen this boy with Master Windu the night before.

Caleb straightened his tunic. “So I’ve been told,” he snapped, throwing Anakin’s derisive answer back at him.

Anakin scowled. “Did Master Windu bring you here? Is Padme with him?”

“Technically, she never left.”

Anakin threw his hands up in exasperation.

“So help me,” he cried, gripping his hair roughly and looking from Caleb to C-3PO. “If someone doesn’t tell me where Padme is I’m going to—”

“Master Anakin,” C-3PO interrupted him. “Perhaps you should speak with Master Windu.”

“Yeah,” Anakin agreed, deflating and more glad for some direction than he cared to admit. “I’ll go do that.”

* * *

Without knowing where Padme was or why she might have went off, Anakin had no choice but to comm Master Windu and let him know that he was coming to the Temple. Mace instructed him to go straight to Ben’s room and not mention their meeting, or the reason for it, to anyone.

Anakin couldn’t imagine who he’d mention it to. Everyone he talked to with any regularity was either missing or off planet. Or a Sith Lord. But he wasn’t going to think about that anymore than necessary.

Regardless, Anakin did as instructed and when he finally got there he was let in by Mace and there was wife, sitting across the room in an uncomfortable looking chair, beside the bed where Ben lay.

“When you said you had unfinished business at the Medcenter I never imagined it would take you over a day to get back with me,” Mace said with clear disapproval as the door closed behind Anakin.

Padme looked up and her eyes widened to see him there. Clearly Mace hadn’t told her that he was expecting him.

“What are you up to, Skywalker?" Mace asked.

Anakin gestured to Padme. “Someone had to take the Senator home when she was discharged.”

As excuses go, it wasn’t very good, as it didn’t account for whatever part of the night Padme had been at the Temple. He hadn’t expected his whereabouts to be inquired after and was too exhausted to think on his feet. Mace hummed but said nothing.

Padme looked to Mace. “You were expecting him?”

“As soon as he got back to the Temple, yes.”

Padme looked to Anakin. “You haven’t been back to the Temple,” she stated, her voice flat but her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

“Well, I—” Anakin rubbed his head, trying to think past his headache. “Where were you? There’s some strange kid in your apartment.”

Now Mace narrowed his eyes at Anakin in suspicion. “Why were you in Senator Amidala’s apartment?”

Padme stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “ _Caleb_ is right where he’s _supposed to be_.”

“What are you implying?” Anakin asked. He _knew_ what she was implying, and perhaps it wasn’t wise to push her, but part of Anakin was curious. Would she tell Mace? Would she take the choice out of his hands? The responsibility?

Padme glared at him, with more fire than he’d seen from her in quite some time. It thrilled him to see her so passionate.

“What is going on here?” Mace asked as, the tension in the room grew the longer the silence stretched.

Padme remained tightlipped. Did she expect Anakin to tell Mace? To spell out their whole relationship to a man who had disliked him since childhood?

Anakin said nothing and Padme, when she finally spoke, didn’t answer Mace’s question. Instead she threw more accusations at Anakin.

“This means that you knew,” she said, her voice quiet and dangerous. “When I asked you about Ben; you knew he was here. You didn’t tell me.”

Anakin looked away, guiltily. He expected her to be angry about his absence, especially his whereabouts, because she wouldn’t understand, but this was something he should have told her. If only to give her some relief from her worry. “It wasn’t safe.”

Mace raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We need to keep Ben’s whereabouts on a need to know basis—”

Padme’s gaze cut to him, sharp and quick. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Mace leaned back and regarded the two of them. Anakin squirmed, he was sure that this was it. Mace wasn’t an imbecile. He knew. He knew and he would kick Anakin out of the Jedi Order, right now.

“You know what,” Mace said, slowly. “You’re right.”

“What?” Anakin exclaimed, his shock getting the better of him.

“With everything else that’s going on right now I’m sure I should be doing something else.” Mace gave a slight bow to Padme. “You have the room, Senator.”

Padme inclined her head in thanks, as regal as a queen.

Mace turned to the door and clapped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder as he passed. “Comm me when you want to discuss the Sith Lord.”

Anakin swallowed. There was no way Mace could know about _that_ too. Was there?

Padme wasted no time. As soon as the door was closed behind Mace she rounded on Anakin.

“What’s going on with you?” She hissed. “Where were you tonight, if you weren’t with me and you weren’t in the Temple?”

“I was worried sick,” Anakin said, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I understand that you’re angry but you can’t just leave without a word, again. Surely you remember what happened last time? It was _barely_ a day ago.”

Padme let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t deflect this on to me. You weren’t with Palpatine, were you?” Her voice broke on the question but she powered through it. “Don’t tell me you were with him!”

Anakin started toward her, moving to place his hands on her shoulders, before stopping himself. He shouldn’t touch her—shouldn’t make her suffer the contact of the hands that had ended her life.

“I’m removing threats to you,” he said.

Padme took in his halted advance and snarled: “ _He_ is the threat to me!”

“Who better to teach me how to keep you safe.”

“I am safe right now,” she insisted, reaching out and clasping both of his hands in hers.

They had held hands like this when they’d married, Anakin remembered. She’d looked like an angel during the ceremony. She looked all too human now, tired and fragile as she looked up at him—her brown eyes trying desperately to convey something that he could not understand.

“Sure, you’re safe now,” he agreed. “But what about in the future?

Padme said nothing to this, she searched his face instead. “You’re pulling away from me,” was the conclusion she reached. "Is that what this is? You’re pulling away from your family and turning to Palpatine when you _know what he is_.”

“You have to trust me,” Anakin said, squeezing her hands.

Padme’s whole face crumbled. “Trust you?!” She wretched her hands out of his grip and walked to the other side of the room, rubbing her eyes before rounding on him again. “How can I trust you?” She asked as Anakin’s heart sank. “You won’t trust _anyone_ but yourself. You told me _today_ that you were frightened of what you’d do. I am too, Anakin! But I want us to help each other. That’s what a marriage is!”

Anakin couldn’t help it. He laughed; an ugly derisive sound. “Help each other?” he asked. “When have we done that? You _never_ share what you’re feeling with me. You can’t even admit to being frustrated with me sometimes, you just ignore it or smother it. You never share. I’m the only one who gets angry, who gets confused or resentful or jealous. I feel like such a burden on you.”

“I _know_ ,” Padme wailed, much to Ankain’s surprise, tears streaming freely down her face. “I’ve stopped sharing anything with _everyone_! It’s easier to keep our marriage a secret if I don't share anything. But I _can’t_ do it anymore, Anakin! I’m being entombed by all of these secrets.”

She took a moment to wipe her face, her breaths coming alarmingly shallow. Anakin was seconds away from crying himself. Padme was the one who is calm and steady. He loved her for that and he resented her for it too. This display, even though it’s what he thought he wanted, tore him up to witness.

“I know we agreed to the secrecy,” she continued. “But we're going to be parents now—and I don’t know about you but, I’ve had enough excitement for a while. So I’m asking you, for the sake of our marriage.”

Anakin broke.

“For the sake of our future. _Please_ don’t go to Palpatine anymore.”

Anakin wiped his own tears from his face. Why was this so hard? Why hadn’t anyone told him that being in love would be so hard?

“All of this is to keep you and the twins safe,” he explained in frustration. “I need you all to be safe. More than anything!”

“That’s the problem!” Padme shouted. “ _More than anything_? Is that how the Sith win in Ben’s time?”

Anakin hadn’t considered that.

“What do you want me to do?”

Padme took a cautious step toward him. “Let it go,” she begged. “Let others handle it. Talk to someone other than Palpatine.”

“Who else is there?” Anakin couldn’t relinquish this to someone else. He had to _fix_ this! He was the one who brought Palpatine into his life. Into his marriage. He had spent _years_ telling him _everything_ , about him and Padme and his doubt in regards to the Jedi Order. Palpatine had singled him out because he saw Anakin as a _good fit_ for the dark side. He was responsible for this.

“Who else?” Padme came closer. “Listen to yourself! Why not Obi-Wan, who cares about you? Or Mace, who understands that we are all in danger from Palpatine.”

Mace’s words come back to him and Anakin understood the truth in Padme’s words but there was shame too. How could he tell them the extent of his secrets? They would not understand. They would judge him harshly.

“Why not me?” She asked, her voice small.

Why must she take care of everything?

“I can stop Palpatine,” he insisted and Padme stopped in her tracks. “If I can just get close enough—”

“No.” She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. The resolution behind the word was just as impactful as if she had.

“No? You don’t get to decide—”

“And neither do you. Your decisions don’t just affect you. You don’t get to make decisions for all four of us without consulting me. We have to work together, Anakin. Can’t you see that?”

“I’m doing this for us! For our family.”

“Our family is _here_ ,” Padme pointed at the floor below her feet. “I’ve had to carry _our family_ around inside of me for _months._ Our family has been lying unconscious for _days_ ,” she gestured to the bed behind her. _“While you’ve been running around with a SITH LORD!”_

There came a loud groan from across the room and both Anakin and Padme turned toward the sound to find Ben sitting up slowly.

“Ben.” Padme said, her voice faint with relief.

“You’re awake!” Anakin exclaimed.

Ben looked at the two of them like they’d lost their minds.

“Who could sleep through that?”


	25. after one long season of waiting: i am breaking open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a little while, hasn't it? Sorry about the impromptu three week break, I had some IRL issues that needed attention so writing was sidelined for a while. Thank you all for your patience and support! <3 
> 
> This chapter was beta'd for me by @starhorsesolo who was very kind about letting me vent.
> 
> Also, this chapter makes use of the E rating so if you want to avoid that then maybe stop reading after Rey shows up.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from The Mountain Goats song: "Absolute Lithops Effect."

The tension in the room was thick as Ben swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, working the stiffness out of his neck. He felt terrible—slow and weak—and was very confused to wake to his grandparents arguing in his bedroom.

“You shouldn’t move too much before we can get a doctor to check you over,” Padme cautioned, breaking the silence and rushing to Ben’s side.

Ben eyed both she and Anakin warily. He hadn’t processed much of their argument, he’d been more aware of voices raised in anger than of what was actually being said. Before he’d properly woken his muddled mind has assumed that it was Han and Leia arguing. But that was impossible because he was in the past and Leia wasn’t here (not really) and Han was—

Ben swallowed heavily. It was not them. The two of them would likely never argue again.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Ben said with more bite than was warranted to hide his irrational disappointment.

Ignoring Ben, Padme turned to Anakin. “Comm Master Windu and let him know Ben is awake.”

Ben started to protest but Anakin had already turned away to do just that. The abrupt change from screaming to concern was disorienting. As was the knowledge that he was the reason for the change. People hadn’t stopped arguing for his benefit since he was a child.

“How do you feel?” Padme asked, sitting beside him on the bed. She began petting his sweaty hair out of his face.

 _Was_ he the child here? This whole situation was starting to feel more than a bit surreal. Was he still asleep? Was he dreaming?

No, he felt unclean—his skin caked in dried sweat—and Padme’s fingers in his hair felt nice. This was real.

“I’m fine,” he assured her despite how terrible he felt; his head was aching, his throat was parched, and he was sore from head to toe. “Are you alright?”

Padme gave him a small smile. “I’m fine,” she echoed him.

“What’s going on?” He asked, pitching his voice low while glancing at Anakin, who was speaking quietly into his commlink in the corner of the room. The last thing he remembered Anakin was debating whether or not to kill him in Padme’s office, with Palpatine encouraging him.

Padme’s smile fell. “You’ve been in a coma for a couple of days. We were worried.”

“A couple of days?” How had he gotten to the Temple? Had Padme been with him the whole time? Anything could have happened to him while being unconscious that long. His breath came in anxious, shallow bursts just thinking about it. “Is Rey back?” He asked to distract himself from the train of thought where he had been vulnerable and unaware of his surroundings and dependent on the medical care of the Jedi Temple for days.

“Not yet,” Anakin answered, coming toward them and tucking the commlink back into his pocket.

Ben was taken aback by Anakin’s disheveled appearance, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed by shadows and there was an ugly purple bruise on the lower half of his face.

“You look terrible,” Ben blurted.

Anakin smirked, goodnaturedly. “Not all of us got beauty rest.”

“Have you slept at all?”

Anakin opened his mouth, likely with another quip at the ready but Padme spoke first.

“No, he hasn’t.”

“How would you know?” Anakin asked her. “You were asleep for nearly a day!”

Ben winced. He hadn’t meant to put her out for so long.

Padme took note of his reaction. “I needed the rest,” she whispered, placatingly as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

Anakin watched this happen, a slight smile on his face. 

Anakin—the insanely jealous man, who had accused Ben of taking advantage of Rey not so long ago and demanded he stay away from Padme on more than one occasion—was watching his wife show Ben affection without saying a word.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked with rising concern.

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked.

“You’re both acting very strange.”

Padme let go of him, a look of hurt on her face. “We aren’t,” she insisted.

“You are.” Then a terrible thought gripped him “Did something happen to Rey? Is that why you both are acting like this?”

“Rey’s fine,” Anakin assured him. “As far as I know.”

“Ani,” Padme chided.

“What?” Anakin shrugged. “I haven’t actually checked in with Obi-Wan. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

Ben tried to access the bond while his grandparents bickered but his headache made it difficult to concentrate enough to make a full connection. All he was able to do for now was feel that Rey was on the other end. Which was enough to reassure him that she was alive. He could try again later, when his head wasn’t busting and his grandparents weren’t around.

“Did something happen to me while I was unconscious?” Was Ben’s next guess.

Padme looked at him incredulously. “What? No.”

“Palpatine wanted me to kill you in your sleep,” Anakin admitted in a rush.

This was apparently news to Padme as she transferred her incredulous look to him. “When?”

Anakin looked at the two of them guiltily. “Before you woke up. He thinks I went through with it. Mace snuck Ben into the Temple from the Medcenter.” He turned to Ben. “Palpatine thinks you’re dead, though. So there’s that.”

“Why did you feel the need to convince him that—” She stopped abruptly, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “No, never mind. That’s a story for another time. Ben,” she turned her warm eyes on him. “We’re just glad that you’re safe and finally awake. We were worried.”

“And we are aware that you’re our grandson now.”

Ben looked to Anakin, startled. How had _that_ happened? Ben worked his jaw as he thought about what that knowledge might mean to them.

“And how do you feel about that?” He finally asked.

“We’re thrilled,” Padme declared at the same time that Anakin said: “Pretty terrible.”

Padme turned to Anakin, outraged.

“Not about him, specifically,” he hastened to say.

Before anything else could be said on the matter Mace Windu entered the room.

* * *

Rey was dozing in her meditation, jolted when she felt a familiar presence brush her mind. Obi-Wan, who sat with her on the floor of the cargo hold, having suggested the meditation to guide them, cracked an eye open to regard her warily.

“Something wrong?”

Rey faltered. Should she tell him? They were getting along so well, she didn’t wish to ruin what little peace they had established between them. Still, before they had left Mandalore, Obi-Wan had shared something deeply personal with her. She couldn’t lie to him after that.

“Ben’s awake.”

Obi-Wan opened both eyes just to blink at her in alarm.

“You could feel him wake?”

Rey considered the question. “I don’t know if I _felt_ him wake so much as he wanted to let me know he was awake. If that makes any sense.”

“A bit,” he conceded. “What else does this bond tell you?”

Rey considered the question. “I know he’s disoriented. As well as, a bit confused; it’s making him grumpy. He has a headache.”

“Extraordinary,” Obi-Wan said, in awe. “The fact that such awareness spans lightyears is…unimaginable.”

Should Rey tell him about being able to see Ben sometimes? Being able to touch him across the stars? Or was that too much too soon?

Before she could decide Obi-Wan asked: “How did such a thing come about?”

Rey hesitated. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted. “There was…someone who claimed to have created it to manipulate us, but I don’t think that’s true.” Hadn’t the vision in the cave on Ilum alluded to as much? That Snoke taking credit for the bond was because he knew that it was powerful and he wanted to be in control of it. He hadn’t fully understood it either; had underestimated them all.

“How do you think it happened?” Obi-Wan asked.

“l think,” Rey said slowly, feeling out her words. “Something inside of me _recognized_ something inside of him; that he felt a similar recognition. I think that we were both lonely. I think we both yearned for someone to understand us; to _see_ us…I don’t know how the bond was created, but those feelings are what it was born from. It’s a connection that we share. A constant conversation. Compassion and companionship. We balance each other. I shied away from it for a long time. I won’t anymore.”

She kept her gaze steady on his as she spoke, daring him to dismiss her. Obi-Wan said nothing but his frown rattled her nerves.

“I take it that you don’t like that explanation,” Rey observed, disappointed, despite herself.

“It’s not that I _dislike_ it. It just,” he stopped and looked at her curiously for a moment.

“What?”

“It sounds like love.”

“Oh.” Rey flushed and braced herself for his disregard but nothing came. Rey studied Obi-Wan, taking in his observation with all of what she now knew about the man. Emotionless vessel for the Force, he was not. He simply tried to lead those he cared for on what he thought was the right path. Perhaps he was realizing that the right path for him wasn’t the right path for every Force sensitive. “Yes. I suppose it does.”

He moved to stand.

“I think I’ll take this time to rest before we reach Coruscant, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Rey had the inane urge to thank him for not lecturing her on attachments. Instead she said: “Rest well.”

Obi-Wan gave her a fond smile before exiting the cargo hold and retiring to the crew quarters.

Alone, Rey considered trying to meditate more but quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, she stood and made her way to the empty cockpit to watch the stars streak past the viewport, tracking her progress toward her destination.

* * *

Windu had brought a medical droid with him, which quickly checked Ben over while the Jedi Master and Padme brought him—and oddly clueless Anakin—up to speed.

Ben really tried to listen as the droid scanned him and shone lights in his eyes, but it was all incredibly distracting.

Also, it didn’t help his focus that he could _feel_ Rey in the back of his mind; insistent, eager, joyous to have him back. She was a constant presence in his head, even though he was still too disoriented to talk to her. He wasn’t sure why she’d decided to open the bond, but he was immensely pleased with the decision and…happy to feel her presence. It was his reassurance and comfort in this odd situation he’d found himself in.

So much so that he lingered over it in his mind, unconsciously phasing in and out of what Windu was trying to tell him.

“Are you even listening?” Windu demanded.

Ben snapped back to attention with annoyance. “I’m getting the gist of it.”

Padme frowned at him, concern knitting her brows together. “Perhaps this is a bit much so soon.”

“I think we could _all_ use some rest,” Anakin agreed, rubbing his eyes.

Windu regarded the three of them. “Fine,” he relented with obvious reluctance. “But we’ll have to make a proper plan on how to deal with Palpatine soon.”

“Let’s wait for Rey before we do that,” Ben suggested. “She’ll want to be part of this. She and Kenobi will be back soon.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Windu asked.

Because Ben could feel her in the Force; barreling towards him like a meteor that had broken through the gravitational pull of a planet.

“Oh—uh—” What could he say? Where would he even begin?

While Ben floundered for an easy explanation, Anakin spoke. “I told him,” he lied. “Before you arrived.”

Windu raised a brow at Anakin. “You’ve been in contact with Kenobi?”

“No. I had R2 check their coordinates,” Anakin said.

“Fine,” Windu said. “Have your droid send me their ETA. We’ll reconvene when they arrive.”

Windu turned to leave and Ben gave Anakin a curious look. Why cover for Ben now, when, just days ago, he had all but interrogated him over his every word?

Anakin gave him an awkward smile.

“Skywalker,” Windu called, before exiting the room. “A word.”

Anakin suddenly looked incredibly panicked but left with the Jedi Master after only a brief hesitation. The door shut behind them but Padme lingered.  
“What was that about?” She asked.

“You’d know how Anakin thinks better than I would.”

“No, not _that_.” She rolled her eyes at him. “How do you know when Rey will be back?”

“I don’t know _when_ she will be back.”

Padme didn’t look impressed.

“It’s a lot to explain.”

“Do you want to tell me over breakfast?”

Food sounded incredible.

Padme wasn’t supposed to wander the Temple so she coaxed the medical droid into ordering food brought up to Ben’s room.

While they waited, Ben moved all of the now unnecessary medical equipment to the far side of the room. Padme fretted about him overexerting himself. Her concern was very like her, but Ben couldn’t help but think that she should be treating him differently, now that she knew of their relation. Shouldn’t she be disappointed? Or at least hurt that he hadn’t told her himself. He didn’t know how to vocalize these thoughts so he allowed her fret with bemused relief.

“How long have you been here?” Ben asked as he pulled the trunk full of clothing closer to the bed and the chair. They could use it as a table when the food arrived.

“Just for a night.”

Ben looked to her in alarm. “You’ve been here all night?”

“Of course,” Padme said, affronted. “Someone ought to be with you. When you’re ill.”

Ben was touched by the sentiment but didn’t know how to express it without possibly overstepping himself. Were they still friends? After everything.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asked, instead.

Padme shrugged and sat on the chair. “I’ll rest after we eat.”

She looked so weary, in that moment, that Ben couldn’t help being concerned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Padme looked up at him for a moment, as if debating something. “With everything that’s going on? No,” she finally said. “I’m not sure that I’m alright. But I’m making the best of it and I’m going to try to do what I can to set things right.”

Ben nodded; touched anew by her resolve. If his mother’s strength was a genetic trait, and not something she’d learned from the Organa’s, then Padme was who she’d gotten it from. Ben was certain of that. He saw so much of Leia, as he knew her, in Padme.

But Ben didn’t believe that such conviction of character was hereditary. If it was, surely he would have managed to inherit even a drop of it?

When their meal finally arrived they ate ravenously and Padme brought them back around to their original topic of conversation. So Ben told her about the bond.

Padme listened with rapt attention as he detailed the whole of it. How, in his time, he and Rey were on opposing sides of the war and their interactions had been brief and mostly antagonistic before the bond came upon them. He told her about his shock when he had first seen Rey, and her anger. How it came on without warning at first. How they had established a shaky understanding because of it. Which had been propelled into something deeper and immensely more complicated with one touch. He told her about killing his Master after he’d hurt her. How they had fought together. How he’d immediately ruined that.

He didn’t detail why Rey had been so furious with him that her first reaction was to shoot him; he let Padme make her own assumptions. He wondered what he would have told her if she had asked.

Instead, she listened silently with growing fascination.

“Then, half of a standard year after we’d went our separate ways, we ended up on the _Invisible Hand_ together,” he concluded.

“If the two of you decide to wed while you’re here I’ll pay for everything.”

“What?” Ben shouted, caught completely off guard. “How did you make that leap?”

Padme sat back and crossed her arms. “Well, it seems very obvious to me. Relay my offer to Rey, perhaps it will help her make a decision.”

“I don’t think it would matter to her.”

“You can’t know until you ask.”

“I think we’d prefer something more intimate, not whatever spectacle you have planned—Wait, no,” Ben shook his head. “This isn’t happening. Rey and I aren’t…there.”

Padme pouted. “More's the pity. I could have used the distraction. You can’t blame me for being excited though. It’s not everyday someone meets their grown grandchild.”

“You’re not—Never mind.

“I’m not what?

Ben worked his mouth anxiously. “You’re not disappointed? With me.”

“Why would I be disappointed?” Padme asked, her expression tender. She reached across their makeshift table and grasped his hand in her own. “Yesterday you were my good friend, who I cared about. Today you and I are family. That’s more of a blessing than I could have hoped for.”

Ben swallowed heavily. He should have told her. He had to stop shying away from his sins.

“You shouldn’t care for me,” he cautioned. “You can’t know everything I've done. I wasn’t on the right side of that war, Padme, and I’d likely still be there if I hadn’t been brought here. I didn’t know how to stop. I’ve sent our family to early graves with my choices.”

Padme didn’t flinch.

“There is no right side of a war,” she told him. “And I sent my mother-in-law to an early grave with my disregard. We all have regrets, Ben.”

“What?” he asked, taken aback.

“She was a slave. I had the power and the position to free her. I did nothing. She suffered a horrendous death.”

Ben shook his head. “It’s not the same, Padme. I’ve done...terrible things. Worse crimes than you can imagine.”

Padme’s gaze hardens. “So you have. I can’t absolve you of those choices, Ben. What matters is what you do now. Make better choices.”

* * *

Ben snuck Padme up to Rey’s empty room shortly after they finished breakfast. She was visibly tired and in desperate need of rest and Windu hadn’t came back to assign her a room to stay in. Ben doubted Rey would mind.

He’s grateful that he had the chance to clear the air with his grandmother and for her…insights into his issues.

Still, he’s glad to finally have a moment to himself. He’s in desperate need of a shower, after spending two days asleep and one full night on the streets of Coruscant before that.

Ben removed the stale and offensive medical scrubs with relief and stumbled into the shower. Normally, the cramped space of the Temple shower annoyed him to no end, as he knocked his elbows on the walls and had to scrunch down to get his head underneath the spray. Today he really couldn’t care about the inconvenience.

He emerged from the ‘fresher feeling refreshed, with his headache greatly diminished. He’d dressed in a loose pair of trousers but forgone the tunic until he could get his hair fully dried.

He was still sore from the prolonged inactivity but he finally felt mentally steady enough to test the strength of the bond again. He needed to make sure Rey was alright. She’d been gone for three days. Where was she? Had she been hurt when he’d been electrocuted? Had she opened the bond? Did she get a kyber crystal? How much longer would she be gone?

Almost as soon as Ben started thinking about her, Rey materialized.

“Ben!”

Her face, pinched with worry when he’d first glimpsed her, cleared at the sight of him. It was a wonder to behold. Before he could say anything she had launched from her seat and flung herself at him. He was lucky that the medical bed was still in the room, otherwise he would have fallen on the floor with the force of her exuberance. As it was, they landed in a pile on the narrow bed.

“You’re awake! You’re alive! I can _feel_ you again!” She held him tightly, only easing her hold to smile brightly down at him, causing her cheeks to dimple.

“You opened the bond,” Ben said, in wonder.

“What happened?”

Ben sat them both up, and reached out to caress her face as her smile disappeared, her joy overshadowed by distress.

“Palpatine wanted me to join him. I refused.”

Rey’s arms tightened around his shoulders, her face buried in his neck.

“You were hurt.”

“So were you. That was terrible timing,” he joked, trying to bring her smile back.

Rey gave him a weak laugh. Ben could feel her need for comfort, could feel how stressful the uncertainty of the past few days had been on her, so he ran his hands over her back; marveling at how solid she felt under his touch. Reassuring himself that if he needed her, she’d be right there.

With her chest flush to his, she was fully in his lap; her long legs wrapped all the way around him. It was a tantalizing position. It was really not the time for such thoughts. Rey was still upset. He still feeling the effects of sleeping for so long. Palpatine was likely monitoring the Force for anything unusual. Could he feel their bond open? Could the Jedi in the Temple?

If that was the case then they should keep their contact within it brief. Use it only to pass information and nothing more personal.

“Where are you? When will you be back?” He realized how needy he sounded. He didn’t care. Having her here like this just made him think about how far away she really was.

“We are on our way.” She raised her head from his shoulder and glanced at something he couldn’t see. “About four more hours.”

“Good,” Ben sighed in relief as he continued to stroke her back. “But be careful when you make planetfall. Palpatine thinks I’m dead but he may be looking for you.”

Rey looked at him incredulously. “Why does he think you’re dead?”

“You know,” he mused. “I haven’t actually gotten the full story. There’ll be time for that later. For now we should—“

“You’re right.”

Ben was going to suggest that they disengage the connection for the time being and resume this conversation in person.

Rey had other ideas.

She moved with purpose, turning her face towards his and catching his lips with hers. 

They should not linger in the bond; there were too many unknowns—but Rey was clinging to him, her hands on his bare shoulders. He could feel her need for reassurance. Whatever Rey had been through these past few days had made her want for the place where she fit best. And right now that was here, in Ben’s arms.

Just _knowing_ that, having the certainty of her want, the map of her needs, was a relief to Ben. It wasn’t that he disliked the guessing, it could be exciting, but after so long with the bond closed—after being separated, after nearly dying—this was what they both needed.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Ben teased, as they broke apart to catch their breath.

“I know I just—” Ben got the sense of certainty and longing. He thought it was hers, the certainty obviously was, but the longing could be his own. Sometimes it was difficult to tell.  “I’m glad that you’re alright. I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?”

“Yes,” she said. The certainty was still there and it shown out of her steady gaze, but a blush had flamed over her cheeks. “I know what it is that I want…from all of this.”

“What’s that?” Ben asked, trying to hide how nervous he was to hear her answer.

Rey traced her fingers over the scar she had given him—from his cheek down to where it curled on his chest, making him shiver.

“Everything I can take. Whatever you’ll give me,” she whispered. Tears had sprung to her eyes but Ben could feel that it had more to do with finally giving voice to these thoughts than anything else.

The words caused a lightness to bloom inside Ben. He was fairly certain that it was hope.

“What I want hasn’t changed since we touched hands,” Rey continued. “Since I saw it and realized that it was possible. Not really. I tried to tell myself that it couldn’t happen; that there were too many obstacles, that what I thought would happen was fanciful. But just because I know it’s silly doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ it.”

Reverently, Ben touched the place where he knew her own scar lay underneath the sleeve of her tunic, the one that looked like two hands reaching for each other.

“What did you want exactly?”

“The war to be over. You and I to make a home on a green planet,” she whispered. Ben could feel that admitting to such thoughts made her feel small and foolish. “We’d make a family of our own—in whatever way we wanted. We’d be happy together.”

“Even when we go home?”

“Especially when we are home. I want you there, with me.”

Ben could feel tears prick his eyes, the lightness in his chest had expanded, demanding release. He cupped her face in his hand. “What’s so silly about that?”

“It didn’t happen that way.”

“It isn’t too late,” he said. He’d been told that so often that it was about time he got to use the phrase.

Rey beamed, her eyes shining. “Now it’s your turn. I’ve poured my heart out to you. Tell me something true.”

How could he give voice to this feeling that grew inside of him? “Can’t you feel it?”

“Occasionally, I’ll need to be beaten over the head with a sentiment before it starts to feel real.”

Ben smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. “I know the feeling.” He swallowed. Where to begin?

“I think you were right to leave me that day,” he told her. “I thought I’d shatter when you shut the Falcon door—when you shut the bond. But it was right. For you and for me. I needed space…to accept that ruling isn’t what I really wanted. To accept that I’ve made bad choices and been misled. To let the weight of those decisions settle on me. Of the consequences. I needed to tear myself apart, Rey, and you couldn’t help me with that. I had to do it alone.”

“Are you still torn apart?”

“I’m trying to build myself back up from the pieces.”

“Can I help with _that_?”

“Please,” he begged. He leaned back, looking into her eyes. “Rey, for me this,” he gestured between them, hoping that she understood that he didn’t just mean the bond, but the relationship that they had started to build when it was closed. That he meant _her_ and everything that she was and what she meant to him. “This is _light_. Loving you feels like hope.”

“You love me?”

“Of course.” She deserved that and so much more. He poured everything he felt for her into their bond. He would voice it for her, always, but he needed her to know exactly how he felt, just incase his words fell short.

“Oh,” she said, softly, her eyes wheeling with tears as she quickly became overwhelmed.

“Too much?” Ben asked, preparing to pull back.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been loved before.”

Ben didn’t think that was true, her friends in the Resistance adored her, surely. He was more than willing to spend his whole life reminding her that she was loved.

 _I’ll do the same for you,_ she sent to him, responding to his thoughts. “I love you,” she said.

Ben felt like his whole heart would burst but then Rey pushed her own feelings at him and he was overwhelmed as well. But it wasn’t a bad feeling, to be so engulfed. It was so, so good.

Without conscious thought they were kissing again. With the bond blown wide open and overfull of their shared emotions, the kiss felt like he was overflowing and being consumed all at once. Palpatine could have started his takeover right then and Ben didn’t think he would have noticed. Troopers could have barged into his room and would have been none the wiser. All there was, in this moment, was Rey and her connection to him. His connection to her. He was submerged in _them_.

Rey had started rolling her hips. The motion small and slow, just enough movement to let his body know she was doing it; that it was happening. It started unconsciously, he thought; a growing need to writhe as the kiss deepened and she overflowed—as her worry turned into relief, to joy that morphed into need—that ended up feeling too good to stop.

“Is this alright?” She asked, halting in her movements. She knew that it was, she could feel his desire in the bond, but if she needed verbal consent then he would give it to her.

Ben cupped her face, savoring the feel of her hot, flushed cheek under his palm.

“Yes.”

Rey resumed her movements without breaking eye contact, her hands on his shoulders for support. He moved a hand to her waist in encouragement.

He was hardening. It wasn’t just the movement of her body over his, it was the suggestion of it through the thin fabric of their clothing—the lack of actual contact—that was intoxicating.

Rey filled his universe just then; the feel of her skin on his, the small sounds she made, the sight of her, she was in his head and and in lap and she wasn’t even actually _there_. If she could muddle his senses with just this little effort then anything more might cause him to lose his mind.

Her movements grew more purposeful when she became aware of how it was affecting him. He could feel how it thrilled her. How she was emboldened by their conversation as she ground herself against him.

Ben nuzzled her neck in the way she had enjoyed so thoroughly before, and was rewarded with her increasingly heavy breathing. Meanwhile, his hands roamed, traveling up her thighs on either side of him, feeling out the mounting spike of pleasure from her the higher he moved them. Heady with her, he reached behind her, grabbing her ass and hauling her against his erection. Rey moaned at the contact, and he couldn’t tell if the delicious enjoyment of the friction was coming from her or him, there appeared to be a kind of feedback loop.

Ben was content to ride that feeling to it’s logical completion—chafing be damned—but suddenly Rey was pulling away. Ben hadn’t caught her decision to do so, had no sense of what had changed, perhaps he’d been too focused on the act and had neglected something? There was a question on his lips but before he could voice it, Rey began undoing the fasting of his belt.

There was a need to her decision that Ben could recognize. So, even though there were a thousand doubts in his mind, he allowed her to pull his cock free of his clothing, hissing when the cold air hit his hot skin.

Rey stared at it, breathing hard—panting, really. Had he somehow misread the situation?

“Rey.”

Her eyes cut to his, quick as a flash. They were eager.

“I don’t know how to…” she let the sentiment trail off. She didn’t need to finish it, her implication was clear. All Ben was receiving from the bond was a potent lust and a desire to learn.

Ben swallowed back his own uncertainty—he’d never felt so vulnerable—and demonstrated. Wrapping his own hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. 

Rey watched with rapt attention but soon she was pushing his hand away and wrapping her own around the shaft. Ben exhaled sharply at the contact, praying to the Force that this wasn’t some dream. That he’s not still lying unconscious in this room.

Her grip was firm, on the edges of too firm—which wasn’t a great mix after having cloth rubbed continuously over the sensitive flesh—but the sight of her hand stroking him, of her wide, dark pupils watching his face was hypnotic. He could resign himself to chafing so long as he wasn’t the reason she stopped. 

“Tell me,” she pleaded, catching his discomfort through the bond, despite him. “Guide me.”

Ben started sending his answer through the bond but she shook her head.

“Say it.”

“L-loosen your grip—that’s it,” he practically growled when she did so. “That’s better. That’s—Like that.”

Ben reached for her but Rey swatted his hand away.

“Not yet.”

Ben groaned—desperate and needy—but obeyed. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he savoried the feeling of her hand pumping him, of not being the one performing this act for once—and looked back in surprise when he felt something wet land on the tip. Rey was spitting…on his cock.

“What?” She asked, feeling his surprise and likely seeing how wide his eyes were as he witnessed this turn of events. She was rapidly growing embarrassed. “Is that weird? I thought it’d feel better with a lubricant. I was wrong—”

“You’re not wrong,” he said, voice strained. It did feel better. He just hadn’t been expecting it and it put him in mind of other ways she could coat his cock in saliva.

He tried to keep the lewd image out of his mind, he hadn’t meant to suggest it—to push her in that direction—but he thought about her putting him into her mouth and Rey had seen it, he knew by the way she blinked and then raised her brows in astonishment.

“Oh,” Rey said, surprised, but considering. “I hadn’t thought of doing that.”

“You don’t have to— “

Rey climbed off of his lap, and knelt on the floor in front of him.

“Rey.” He didn’t know what he was trying to convey. That he didn’t want her to feel pressured? That this was too much?

Rey looked up at him, her hands resting—waiting—on her thighs. “I want to try it,” she said. “If you’ll let me. If it’s alright with you?”

If it was alright with him? What kind of question was that. Of course it was alright. It was probably too alright.

“Okay,” Ben agreed, nodding shakily. Then a thought occurred to him. “You are alone, right?”

“No, Ben. Obi-Wan is right over there,” she deadpanned, waving her hand around vaguely.

“In that case he’s going to get quite the show.”

Rey rolled her eyes before leaning forward between his legs and blessing him with a long languid lick, up the length before taking him into her mouth.

His hips bucked, instinctually at the contact. It was an unimaginably foreign sensation but a welcome one.

He could feel how calculated her movements were through the bond. Still, it was a tight fit and there were some accidents—her teeth scraping over his skin, causing him to hiss and pain to shoot through the bond, her underestimating her own gag reflex—but eventually she found a satisfying rhythm, working him with her mouth and a hand fisted around the base.

Although he tried not to make noise she was drawing moans from him that she could surely hear over the wet, obscene sounds that her ministrations cause.

When he’s close, he tried to tell her through the bond as words escaped him.

There’s an urge to push down on her head, to keep her there when he finished. But he didn’t want to hurt her, to force her, or to taint this experience for her. Instead he squeezed her shoulder roughly, his hand spasming there as he fought to let go and hold fast at the same time.

He noticed a pressure building in his eardrums, steady and echoing, like a second, pounding heartbeat.

What was that? He didn’t think it was coming from him. He looked to Rey and that’s when he noticed her hand, which had disappeared beneath her, below his line of sight.

“Are you—?”

Rey hummed around his cock—an affirmation—and it sent him over the edge.

He’s aware of the absence immediately and instinctively pumped his own cock through his orgasm at Rey’s sudden disappearance. He must have lost focus which made maintaining the physical part of the connection difficult.

Still, he could feel her in the back of his mind. She was still stimulated and on edge but there’s a steady pressure building in his head that it was definitely not his own anymore.

 _Rey,_ he sent her, pleading. _Come back. Let me touch you too._

From her, he received an adoring pleasure but no words. She must have been very busy.

Ben let his head fall back, thumping sadly on the wall behind him, and closed his eyes, trying to connect with her as much as he could in his muddled state.

He felt her arousal, her frustration, the blood pumping through her veins, and something slick and satisfying.

_Rey._

The sensation of her orgasm was enough to leave his ears ringing and his limbs tingling, as though electrified. He wished desperately that he could have helped her there.

When they were both composed enough to reestablish the bond Rey climbed back up onto the bed and curled against his body as they lay together. He had tucked himself back into his pants and Rey was still clothed but she was also languid and flushed and blessing him with lazy, shy smiles.

“I’m sorry we lost the connection,” she said, looking up at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Ben said, kissing her forehead. “It wasn’t anyone's fault.”

Rey hummed. “It won’t be an issue next time.”

“No,” Ben agreed, his heart swelling. “It won’t.”

Ben would have been content to lay around the rest of the day with Rey in his arms, everything else could wait. Obviously, that was when there came an insistent knock on his door.


	26. i saw the future in a dream last night. there’s nothing in it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is taken from one of my favorite songs, "Black Pear Tree" by The Mountain Goats and Kaki King. If you've listened to any of the other songs that I've mined for titles then I highly recommend this one.

After leaving Ben’s room Anakin followed Master Windu for a long while in silence. The farther they walked down the corridor, the longer the silence stretched and the more convinced Anakin became that nothing good could come from whatever conversation Mace wished to have. 

At first he was sure the Mace was debating the proper way to excommunicate him from the Jedi Order. But, as the silence grew into something almost sinister, Anakin was sure that Mace was trying to kill him, rather than face the public spectacle of expelling the Hero With No Fear from the Order. 

That must be what was happening because Anakin’s heart was going to beat right out of his chest with fantic, anxious panic.

Finally, without a word said, they reached, of all places, Anakin’s room. Mace stopped outside of the entrance and turned to face him.

“Do you have something that you want to tell me about Senator Amidala?”

Surely his heart shouldn’t be able to beat that fast. To pound against his chest so hard that he was sure it would crack his ribs. He could feel it in his ears. Surely it was audible to Mace as well. Anakin began to sweat.

“I—uh.”

_ My children deserve to be more than secrets.  _

_ You’re pulling away from me. _

_ I’m asking you, for the sake of our marriage. _

He needed to talk about this. For Padme. For their family. For his sanity. Anakin couldn’t suppress this part of himself any longer. Burying it away was turning it into something ugly and shameful. Wasn’t Ben’s time proof enough of that?

“I—I’m—uh.”

Mace raised an impatient eyebrow at him and suddenly he was nine years old again and the Jedi Council was testing him and they could see through him.

“I—I—”

Try as he might, he couldn’t get it out. Not to Master Windu. Not so directly.

“You know what? Nevermind,” Mace said, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Anakin’s shoulders fell. His eyes burned with humiliated tears that he fought to keep from spilling. He couldn’t do it. He was a miserable failure.

But Mace wasn’t finished with him yet. “Kenobi should be here soon. Maybe you’ll talk to him.”

Oh kriff.

“Get some sleep, Skywalker. That’s an order.”

Mace continued down the hallway, leaving Anakin alone.

He went into his room and let out a shaky breath, scrubbing his eyes roughly. He shouldn’t be relieved that he hadn’t been expelled  _ and _ frustrated at himself for not being truthful. Those states were mutually exclusive. He could not have it both ways.

Still, he’s more than willing to obey Mace’s order. He was so tired he could barely stand. Any adrenaline he’d had in his system had abandoned him. Padme was safely in the Temple. Ben was recovering but awake. Surely Anakin could sleep. He could allow himself that much. Even if his heart hurt with shame.

He didn’t even bother getting undressed; just rolled out his futon and lay among the comforting clutter of his room. He’d always been chastised for keeping his room so full of material possessions—it didn’t fit in with the Jedi’s austere sensibilities. He’d always enjoyed his small rebellion.

The secret unrest that he’d always harbored toward the Jedi Order seemed far more sinister now, in the face of his possible future. Of what he now knew he was capable of.

Every time that Anakin tried to do something for his family—for their future or Padme—he just made things worse. He did the wrong thing. Made the wrong choice. Placed them farther in danger.

Padme thought that his plan to ruin Palpatine from the inside was foolish. Was she right? Had Ben already done enough to save her life—to change the circumstances around her death and therefore, the outcome?

If Anakin managed to fall asleep, would he still dream of her crying out in pain? He didn’t know what he’d do if that happened. Was, in fact, terrified of what he’d do if that happened.

He got up, pulled his boots back on, and left his room. He didn’t really need to sleep anyway.

* * *

 

“What is it?” Rey asked when Ben turned to the sound of knocking on the door of his room.

“Someone’s at the door,” Ben answered, turning back to her and getting comfortable on the narrow bed again. Rey was laying half on top of him and there was a surreality to it because, either she weighed next to nothing, or the bond didn’t allow much mass to transfer. He could feel the outline of her body against his, but there was barely any substance to it. It was a constant reminder that she wasn’t actually there (yet) that he didn’t appreciate.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”

“No.”

Ben hoped that whoever was on the other side would take a hint and leave him alone. But the longer Ben let it continue, the more insistent the knocking became.

“It could be important.”

“I doubt it,” Ben grumbled, pulling her close and nuzzling the top of her head. There was no smell. The absence was unsettling.

He’d already talked to Padme, Rey was with him now (in a sense), he wasn’t going to inconvenience himself to speak with anyone else.

Rey laughed softly at him, picking up his irritation at the interruption through the bond.

“Ben. Answer your door,” she commanded, raising up to kiss him sweetly. “I’ll be with you for real shortly.”

“You’ll leave the bond open?”

“Of course.”

Reluctantly, Ben got up from the bed and the comfort of Rey’s company. He had the presence of mind to throw on a tunic before answering the door to find Anakin, shifty eyed and clearly agitated, on the other side.

“Anakin,” Ben greeted, more than a little alarmed to see him. It was clear from his sallow skin and bloodshot eyes, that he hadn’t slept in days and for some reason he was  _ here _ instead of getting some much needed rest. “Is everything alright?”

“What? Oh yeah—or, no. I guess it’s not. But it will be. Perfect, even. I know what we have to do.”

“Do you, now?” He asked, skeptically. Ben glanced over his shoulder, into the room behind him, but Rey was gone. “And what’s that?”

“We’re going to defeat Palpatine. If the Jedi storm the Chancellor's office it will create all kinds of messy legal issues. But  _ you’re _ not a Jedi and  _ I _ won’t be for much longer. Together, you and I can save the galaxy!”

Ben took that in. All in all, it was sound logic, just a bit premature, under the circumstances. Still, it didn’t sit right with him. Anakin didn’t look capable of making great decisions at the moment.

“That is a profoundly bad idea.”

Anakin raised his hands, as if to ward off Ben’s contention. “Before you say no—”

“Wasn’t that what I just said?”

“—maybe this will change your mind.”

Anakin reached for his belt and that was when Ben noticed that he had two lightsabers clipped there. Both of which Ben was intimately familiar with. One being the one that usually hung there, Anakin’s saber—that Rey had used to scar him. The other, the one Anakin unhooked and handed to Ben, was his own lightsaber.

“I took it out of Padme’s office,” Anakin said while Ben took the saber in hand. He was more than astonished with himself that he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t even considered it’s whereabouts in the time he’d been awake.

In his defense he’d been a bit disoriented when he’d first awoken and afterward he was…distracted.

“I’ve kept it safe for you,” Anakin continued. “I was hoping to take it apart and see what keeps it from blowing up in your face, but I haven’t had the time.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you not doing that.” Ben said sarcastically as he shoved it, awkwardly in his pocket. He wasn’t wearing a belt to secure it to.

Anakin frowned at the safety violation but said nothing of it. “So?” He asked expectantly, instead.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “How is this supposed to change my mind?”

“Your armed now.”

“Anakin. You do remember that I’ve fought him already, right?” Ben asked. “That I nearly died. What makes you think that the addition of  _ you _ will change that?”

Anakin scoffed in disbelief. “We’re powerful.”

“We are. Power isn’t everything.”

Ben could see the moment that anger consumed Anakin, quick as a stray spark on dry kindling. It changed his whole face into something ferocious and changed the Force around him. Was he aware of how much power he held? Not just prowess with the Force but the way the people in his life responded to him? The way future events were shaped by his every decision?

“If you aren’t going to help me, I can do it myself!”

Anakin turned as though to storm down the hallway but Ben had seen enough. Everyone else might be taken by the force of nature that was Anakin Skywalker—might let him get away with literal murder—but Ben was under no such spell. He could see the danger here, the destruction, the need. He recognized this.

He grabbed Anakin by the back of his robes and pulled him back, only to shove him through the open doorway and into Ben’s room behind them.

Ben entered as well, as Anakin lost his footing and landed on the floor. The door slid shut at Ben’s back.

“What’s your problem?” Anakin demanded, levering himself up on his elbows.

“Go to sleep, Anakin. You’re delusional.”

“I’m not! We can do—”

“Then you're insane.”

Anakin glared at him. “We can do it,” he said with conviction.

Ben shrugged. “Maybe. But we’d both die trying and I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling suicidal today.”

“We might not die.”

“Fine,” Ben scoffed. “We might not. But do you know who  _ will _ die? Thousands of Jedi when Palpatine activates the clones’ kill switch.”

“I don’t care.”

Ben looked at his grandfather, sadly. He had killed a great many Jedi as Darth Vader, but the man having a fit on the floor was not Darth Vader. Not yet. Not if Ben could help it.

“You don’t mean that,” he said softly. “If you meant that then this whole trip is a waste. If you mean that then you’ve fallen.”

Anakin dropped his body back to the floor with a thump and covered his face.

“Is that how I’d know?” He asked, his voice muffled by his hands, but distinctly thick. “How would I know, Ben?”

With a sigh, Ben lowered himself into a squat; still guarding the exit—still prepared to spring into action, if need be—but closer to Anakin’s level. “What’s this really about?”

“I want to kill him!” Anakin yelled, sitting up, quickly and glaring at Ben; teeth bared and angry tears shining in his blue eyes. “I won’t be a slave! Not again! My children won’t be slaves to him! If I have to kill Jedi to keep Padme from dying, I will! Don’t underestimate me!”

“I know.”

Ben wouldn’t dare underestimate this man again. Not after what he’d done to Rey.

“But if you’ve come here for my permission to throw your conscience away,” Ben continued. “You’ll be disappointed.”

“You’d stop me?”

“I would.”

“I could defeat you.”

“You could try.”

“Padme would be devastated. She’d never forgive you.”

Ben was certain that in this scenario, Padme would be crushed by either outcome.

“Our family has a long history of doing unforgivable things to each other,” Ben said, matter-of-factly.

The words hit Anakin like a blow, causing his whole body to tense, absorbing the damage. Finally, his eyes overflowed with tears and he let his body crumple, miserably, to the floor again.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I’m scared of what I’m capable of. Of what I  _ want _ to do. Every outcome I can imagine terrifies me.” He looked to Ben, petrified. “The future is garbage.”

Ben sat fully beside Anakin, now that he seemed like less of a flight risk.

“I get it.”

Anakin sniffled. “You do?”

He hated the pity he felt for Anakin, right then. He was still incredibly angry at him for invading Rey’s mind. He wanted to hold onto that anger. But it was difficult when Anakin was so obviously hurting in the same way Ben once had. 

Anakin had finally recognized the monster within himself that Ben had been accused of inheriting. In another time, Anakin would allow himself to become that monster. Ben had given into that monster like an inevitably.

“You’re terrified,” Ben stated, aware that Anakin hung on his word. Hoping, Ben assumed, for understanding. “You’re angry. And they—they feed each other. The more angry you become, the more scared you are of what you‘ll do. Which makes you angrier at yourself; at your weakness…at the people who make it a habit of doubting you. Who make you doubt yourself.”

“But more than that,” Ben continued. “You’re terrified that you’ll lose everything—of losing _anything_. So you’re trying to find solutions to have it all and holding onto what little you have that much tighter. This _isn’t_ the solution. The dark will _take_ _everything_. You will _give_ _it_ _everything_.”

“I won’t,” Anakin argued. “If I can just find the—the line between light and dark, I can get close without actually crossing it. Without falling. I won’t lose myself.”

Ben shook his head sadly. “You can’t toe the edges of the dark side. If you try, you will fall and you will lose everything. And trying to come back from that? It’s not an experience I recommend.”

“I can do it.”

“You can’t.”

“If it will save Padme—”

“It won’t. You’ll kill her.”

Rey had been right. The Force already had a reality where Anakin fell, they didn’t have to visit the different flavors of that reality.

“That’s insane!” Anakin sat up and yelled at Ben in frustration, glaring at him like it was his fault. “Why would I do that! Why would any version of me  _ do that _ ! I don’t understand!”

What could Ben tell him? That it happens? That you could kill someone without hating them? That you could kill someone you love? That even if the deed made you feel like you had died with them, you didn’t. That you’d have to live with it. That you would think of that person everyday until your last day.

Ben wiped a hand over his face, trying to get a grip. Anakin wasn’t here about Ben’s regrets.

But, maybe…

He hadn’t told Padme. He couldn’t bring himself to give voice to it—to bear witness to the point when her new and fragile love for him turned into quiet fear—but Anakin was still on the brink of falling.

Back when Ben had been there, he’d sought out familiarity. Not in the form of his family, per se, but in the form of a worse monster than himself. He’d wanted to know he wasn’t alone. Ben had found a legacy and remains that spoke to the dark parts of his soul.

Then, he had been found by a master, with an agenda of his own.

He could do better for Anakin, who needed to know that he wasn’t the only one capable of terrible deeds. That he wasn’t alone. Hopefully, he’d learn not to act on such thoughts. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to ruin his life to learn that lesson, the way Ben had.

“I killed my father.”

Anakin said nothing. The silence rang in Ben’s ears.

“Why?” Anakin finally asked. At least his anger had morphed into confusion.

Ben let out a shaky, self-deprecating laugh. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said, his voice thick. “I knew it was wrong. I didn't want to do it, not really, but it was what my master wanted. It was supposed to help me. To make things easier.”

“How?” Anakin asked, enthralled.

“When you fall you aren't encased in the dark,” Ben explained slowly. “It doesn’t blot out everything else, or anything that’s already past. You feel the dark side when you’re in the light, right? You can recognize the dark; it tempts you. Clouds your judgement.”

Anakin nodded.

“When you're in the dark you—you _crave_ the light. And worse, than the _want_ of it, it _calls_ to you. Pulls you. It’s torture. Killing… _him_ was—it was supposed to sever my ties to the light. It didn’t,” Ben admitted, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “You can’t cut yourself off from one or the other. They’re always _there_. They’ll always _be_ _with_ you. No matter how much you hate them both. No matter how much you hate the Force and its _hold_ over you.”

Anakin was quiet, but he wasn’t afraid—that Ben could tell—and he wasn’t disgusted. If anything he looked thoughtful and sad.

“The only thing killing my father severed was any chance that my mother would forgive me for falling.”

“You hate the Force?” he asked.

_ That _ was what Anakin had taken from all of that?

“A bit,” Ben admitted. “I can’t help but think that my life would have been easier if I’d been more like my father—unable to feel it.”

The only good thing the Force had ever done for Ben was bring him closer to Rey. Who was his equal. Who made him want to be a better person.

“It showed me,” Anakin started and then hesitated, before looking at Ben guiltily. “My son tried to kill you. In your sleep. Did he see visions, like I do? That’s what you said, right? That I was like my son? That the Force showed us things and we made them  _ your _ problem.”

Of all the things that the Force could have shared with Anakin, Ben wished very much that it hadn’t shown him that particular night.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything.” Anakin took a deep, shuddering breath. “I killed Padme and became some kind of monster. How long was I Palpatine’s slave? Where were the twins? Did I hurt them too?”

Ben thought of Luke’s missing hand. Of Alderaan and of the occasional nightmares that he’d felt as a child; like an echo, from his mother—how she’d wake, the morning after those nightmares, with a dead and distant look settled into her eyes. He thought of tense, heavy silences, that he hadn’t understood as a child, but knew all too well, what unsaid truths weighed them down, now.

“Don’t answer that,” Anakin said, into Ben’s silence. “I know I did. Directly or not, I hurt them. And they hurt you—”

“They didn’t  _ hurt _ me—”

“They did,” Anakin’s voice left no room for argument. He’d made up his mind. “I don’t have to know the extent of it to see that they did. I don’t blame them for that—it was  _ my _ fault. But they did. And you fell and hurt someone you love—I don’t blame you for that either. I set those events in motion—”

“Palpatine did—”

“No,” Anakin argued. He was crying again, but it was different. The tears fell but he didn’t rage with them or against them. “That’s kind of you to say, but no.  _ I _ put pain into our family. I’m sorry, Ben.”

Ben didn’t know what to say to that. Anakin was apologizing to him for something that was bigger than both of them. He didn’t know how to feel about it or how to accept it.

“I don’t want your apologies,” he said, looking away from the scalding sincerity in Anakin’s eyes. “ _ You _ haven’t killed anyone.” Ben looked back in time to see Anakin flinch, guiltily. Alright, maybe he was wrong about that. “You have a unique opportunity to learn from these mistakes. Don’t waste it. Please.”

He realized then, that what he wanted to say—what he was  _ trying _ to say—was the same thing that Padme had told him. “What matters is what you do now. Make better choices.”

Anakin nodded, wiping the tears from his face. “I know what I have to do.”

* * *

 

Rey had relayed Ben’s message to Obi-Wan once he woke. The one about avoiding Palpatine at all costs, not about…literally anything else that had transpired. Still, they’d timed their arrival badly (by which she meant, not at all) so it was just after midday when they fell out of hyperspace above the planet.

“I expected as much,” Obi-Wan sighed as they waiting just outside of the atmosphere of Coruscant for the Republic Army to give them clearance to make planetfall. He’d commed the Jedi Temple so that they were expecting them. As well as Master Windu. He’d assured her that the more beings who were expecting them, the less likely it would be for Palpatine to make them simply disappear.

Rey had notified Ben of their arrival in her own way. She could feel his eagerness to see her, an echo of her own anticipation. He was with Anakin, who had inexplicably fallen asleep on the floor of Ben’s bedroom. He was debating whether or not to wake his grandfather from his nap.

“We don’t know what Palpatine knows about your and Ben’s situation,” Obi-Wan continued, forcing Rey to focus on her surroundings. “Your knowledge, in the wrong hands could be disastrous.”

“I don’t know the specifics of how the Empire was formed,” Rey pointed out. Her education in that subject was not nearly as extensive as it ought to be.

“No, but your memories will show how it fairs fifty years from now. Its effects on the general population of the galaxy. You’re a resource, whether you know it or not.”

Rey thought over that and poked at the bond absently. Ben had decided to let Anakin sleep but his grandfather proved to be just as light a sleeper as Ben was. As soon as he had moved to leave the room, Anakin had woken.

If Palpatine did catch her and got past her new shields would he be able to find Ben? In that place in her mind where she and he were connected? Was it safe to assume that if either of them were caught then both of them were? What could that mean for the Jedi?

“I don’t want to alarm you,” Rey said to Obi-Wan. “But because of the nature of my bond with Ben, Palpatine might be able to access both of our memories if one of us is caught.”

Obi-Wan blinked at her in open astonishment.

“Of course that’s how that works,” he said with heavy sarcasm, his shoulders falling. “Of course.”

Rey said nothing. There was nothing to say.

The Force around the planet was like a shadow—cold and dark. Nearly suffocating in its mire. It was worse than it had been when they’d left.

When they were finally hailed, they rode in tense silence, waiting for something bad to happen; waiting to be ambushed. Rey had forced Obi-Wan to let her pilot; her hands, tense on the controls.

Inexplicably, they landed at the Temple without incident. It was a relief, even if the lack of hinderance made her uneasy.

The Jedi Temple acted as a bubble of light amidst a dark sea. A very small bubble. Still, dire though their situation was, Rey could not squash her joy. They’d made it. Ben was waiting for her in the hangar.

She went through the process of powering down the shuttle quickly. Obi-Wan watched her closely and rolled his eyes when her haste caused her to fumble.

“Go on,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I can finish here.”

Rey didn’t waste time arguing, she unstrapped herself from the pilot’s seat and made her way to the exit. The gangplank lowered absurdly slow.

Sure, she had just seen Ben. They had just— 

But this was different. Or maybe it wasn’t, that didn’t diminish her excitement. At least she knew that he would be happy to see her.  _ That _ she could feel like current through her veins. Everything else could be discussed later. For now, Rey needed to feel him, solid and strong, in her arms.

When the gangplank descended fully Rey exited the craft at a sprint. 

She had left and he had missed her. He had  _ waited _ for her! She wanted so much, in that moment, but all she managed was to throw herself at him. She was making a habit of it, apparently. It felt so good to be caught.

Ben’s arms came around her and he lifted her off of her feet just to bring her up to his height for a kiss. She admired his strength, how large and sturdy he was. But also, how strong he had to be to do what he was trying to do. To admit fault and learn from it. To change and to grow and to love. He made her want to be better, too. They would learn to change and grow and love, together.

Suddenly everything was right again—or it would be—because they were together. They could defeat Palpatine. They could bring balance to the galaxy. Together they could ignite the stars!

They held onto each other tightly. Relishing in the knowledge that the other would not disappear.

* * *

 

Anakin watched as Rey and Ben embraced in a very apparent and not discreet way. He had been standing with Ben when Rey ran at him and now he moved away awkwardly. They were getting a lot of looks from mechanics in the hangar. Someone even wolf whistled but they appeared to be very oblivious at the moment.

He was happy for them, he truly was. He was also scaldingly envious. Joy should be shared. It shouldn’t be hidden away or denied. With that in mind he went to find Obi-Wan, who had yet to exit the shuttle.

Anakin gathered his courage and walked up the gangplank. Obi-Wan was just inside, gathering what supplies they hadn’t used during the mission into a small pile. Anakin hovered in the opening.

“It’s good to see you, Master,” he greeted. “Good trip?”

Obi-Wan looked up at the sound of his voice and regarded him curiously for a moment. Anakin couldn’t decipher the context behind his steady gaze.

“It was very enlightening,” he finally said, choosing his words with care. “Did you fair well while I was away?”

“Fairly,” Anakin said, lightly. “You know me.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan relented with a fond small.

Anakin swallowed nervously. He could see Rey and Ben in his periphery.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

Obi-Wan would be very disappointed when Anakin told him. All of those years of training and teaching and work and Anakin was about to render them pointless. How ungrateful he was, to never be satisfied with what he was given. But he did want more than what the Jedi Order could offer him. He already had more. He needed to care for what he had.

“Padme is pregnant with my children.”

Obi-Wan stared at him. Anakin stared back. There was a horrible moment, where it seemed as though all sound and activity suspended. Anakin held his breath. He was going to be sick.

“I know.”

“You…know,” he repeated. The words not making sense.

“You know.” He’d worked himself up for nothing. Obi-Wan wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t turning away in disgust. He didn’t even look disappointed. He just stood there, looking mildly concerned for Anakin’s sanity, as usual. “How did you know?”

“Rey told me.”

Anakin turned to look out of the shuttle. Rey and Ben weren’t embracing quite so tightly  anymore but they were still loosely, casually entwined. Talking in intimate whispers.

She had taken control of his secret. He wasn’t mad at her, exactly. But he was more annoyed at having it outside of his control than he thought he’d be. He had tried to goad Padme into speaking it—into taking it out of his hands—but Rey was different. She wasn’t a part of it.

“Honestly, Anakin you should have said something yourself,” Obi-Wan chastised, drawing Anakin’s attention back. “Does anyone else know?”

Anakin ran a hand over his face and tried to let his aggravation go. 

_ Make better choices _ .

Working himself into anger at Rey would do no good. Besides, he had hurt her. Maybe this made them even.

“Mace, probably.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, it can’t be helped. Have you decided what you're going to do?”

“Do?”

His nap had done him some good but he was still incredibly tired.

“The Council  _ might _ be persuaded to overlook such…dalliances as an error of judgement under the stresses of war. If you meet certain expectations, that is.”

“Expectations?” Anakin asked, already ill at ease by the implication. Dalliance? Error of judgement? Did Obi-Wan think that he and Padme were a one time thing? That it had been a mistake?

“You’d have to renounce them,” Obi-Wan said, voice grim.

“Renounce them?”

He hoped Obi-Wan didn’t mean what he thought he meant.

“Deny any further attachments to Padme,” he explained. “Make penance. Relinquish all claim over her children. Then the Council may let you remain a Jedi.”

Give up his whole family? Was that how it had to be? Padme and his children or Obi-Wan and life as he’d known it? What kind of ultimatum was that?

Honestly, what kind of man did Obi-Wan think he was? How could Anakin have let him believe that that could even be considered a choice?

Still, knowing his answer wasn’t easy. Leaving behind the Jedi Order would be a major adjustment. His mother had sent him to be a Jedi. He hoped she would have been proud of him anyway.

“I can tell from your ragged sobs that you’ve made a decision,” Obi-Wan said turning to shuffle through the supplies. Anakin hadn’t even noticed that he’d started crying again but, now that it had been pointed out, he could hear his own shaky, quick breaths. Obi-Wan extracted a canteen of water and handed to him. 

“Go on, out with it.”

First, Anakin drank gratefully. This day was wringing him out like a sponge.

He looked at Obi-Wan steadily. He needed to make this clear. Once and for all.

“Padme is my wife. I won’t abandon her.”

Obi-Wan sucked in a quick breath of surprise and pursed his lips in irritation.

“I must say, Anakin, I’m disappointed.”

Anakin bowed his head. He couldn’t bare to look at Obi-Wan’s hatred but he would accept it, if he had to.

“You didn’t even invite me to the wedding.”

Anakin’s head shot back up to see Obi-Wan cross his arms, he looked like he was pouting.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. Come on, dry your eyes. Pull yourself together. You haven’t been officially kicked out of the Order just yet. We have plenty of work to do before all of that.”

Anakin wiped his face. “Thank you, Master.”

“Ankain,” Obi-Wan chastised. “I haven’t been your training master in years.”

He was right. It had taken Anakin such a long time to adjust to the Jedi Order’s casual use of the title ‘master’ that he was having an equally difficult time letting it go. He hadn’t wanted to use it when he was nine and he didn’t want to use it now. Even if it didn’t mean quite the same thing.

“Obi-Wan,” he amended.

Obi-Wan smiled and rewarded him with a comforting hand clasped on his shoulder. Anakin was glad for the contact, but, if he was being honest with himself, he could use a hug.

Then he thought:  _ Consequences be damned. I’ll just blame it on the sleep deprivation. _ Before drawing Obi-Wan into a hug.

Obi-Wan’s initial reaction wasn’t incredibly encouraging. He said “oh” and “uh” and “alright, then,” before wrapping his own arms around Anakin.

Anakin tried to not make Obi-Wan suffer through it for too long. When he drew back he murmured a quiet apology and wiped more tears from his eyes.

“It’s fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan assured him with a kind smile. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.”

Obi-Wan took that for what it was worth. “Well, before we begin, is there anything else I should know?”

“Um.” Anakin ransacked his brain. There was a lot Obi-Wan should know. “Palpatine is a Sith Lord.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“The clones are programed to kill us.”

“I am aware.”

“Maybe you should be telling me things!” Anakin huffed, crossing his arms. “If you know so much.”

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. “I don’t think Rey wants to be a traditional Jedi.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, I have eyes, Obi-Wan.” He gestured outside of the shuttle toward Ben and Rey. They had moved to a more secluded part of the hangar but they were still visible from the shuttle entrance; holding hands and standing quite close while looking deeply into each other’s eyes. It was probably for the best that Obi-Wan had missed the more overt display of affection.

“For Forces’ sake,” Obi-Wan said, scandalized, when he saw. “They’re in a temple.”

“Technically they’re in the hangar.”

“Temple property, then.”

“Let them be,” Anakin said, rolling his eyes at Obi-Wan. He was aware that he was being hypocritical but Obi-Wan didn’t have to know that. He thought of Rey telling him to stay out of her relationship with Ben. He very much doubted Obi-Wan going over there and shooing them out of sight would help or change anything.

“Maybe I’ll get to be a great grandfather before I’m thirty,” he mused.

“What do you mean by that?”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“Anakin,” he sighed. “I know fatherhood is new to you, but you have to be a  _ grandfather _ before you can be a  _ great _ grandfather.”

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, affronted. “You really don’t think highly of my intelligence, do you?” He didn’t give Obi-Wan the time to answer. “For your information, I  _ am _ a grandfather.” He gestured again to where Rey and Ben were huddled.

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped. “Ben’s your grandchild? Well I’ll be damned.”

“It could be Rey,” he argued in annoyance. How had Obi-Wan drawn the right conclusion straight away when Anakin hadn’t? It was Anakin’s family!

“It’s not Rey.”

“How are you so sure?”

Obi-Wan hesitated before saying carefully: “I glimpsed a bit of her childhood when we were building her shields. It wasn’t a situation I’d imagine you would allow one of your descendants to be in.”

Ankain glanced back at Rey. All he really knew about her past was that she was from Jakku. Perhaps it was cowardly, but he didn’t think he could stomach more harsh outcomes today. Rey and Ben’s time was atrocious. It wouldn’t happen here.

“I’m not so sure about that. I messed things up pretty badly in their time.”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s hand land on his shoulder, jolting him out of his gloomy thoughts. “Not everything is your fault, Anakin.”

He shrugged off Obi-Wan’s hand and his offered comfort. “Some things are. In their time, I fell.”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan. He hadn’t intended to tell him but it made sense, didn’t it? To have the people who cared about him aware of his weaknesses, so they could shore him when he needed the strength. Because if he purposely isolated himself out of shame then his family would be unable to support him. He needed to share the burden of his fear. It’s what Padme had asked him to do.

Obi-Wan’s brows pinched in unhappiness. “Well, we simply cannot allow that to happen.”

“No, we can’t,” Anakin agreed, lightheaded with relief.

* * *

 

“Do we need Anakin around for anything right now?” Ben asked Obi-Wan when the four of them finally exited the hangar and made their way into the Temple.

“Uh—” Obi-Wan blinked up at him in confusion. “I don’t—”

“Why?” Anakin asked, harshly, butting into the conversation.

“Because he  _ needs to sleep _ ,” Ben addressed Obi-Wan while staring Anakin down.

“I just got done sleeping!”

“For an hour.”

“It was closer to two!”

“One hour for every night of sleep you missed?” Ben scoffed. “Sounds healthy.”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan cried. “Is that true? Who am I kidding? Of course it’s true. Go rest.”

“What if you need me?” Anakin asked.

“Doubtful,” Rey scoffed. 

Anakin rounded on her. “Harsh,” he accused.

“I just meant that we can’t do much until the clones get their inhibitor chips removed,” she said, rolled her eyes at him. “You have time.”

“Honestly, Anakin,” Obi-Wan stopped, crossing his arms over his chest, giving him his  _ honestly-Anakin _ frown. “We’re just going to speak with Mace and debrief him about what transpired during our mission. Please, go rest so that you can be fully functional when we  _ need _ you.”

“Fine,” he relented, unwillingly. Obi-Wan and Rey moved on but Ben lingered behind, looking at Anakin curiously.

“Padme is sleeping in Rey’s room,” Ben told him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Be said, glaring at him. “Get some rest.”

* * *

 

Anakin knocked softly on the door to Rey’s room, no one answered but he could hear movement beyond.

“Padme,” he said against the door. “It’s me.”

A long moment passed. Anakin was starting to consider that she might not answer. That she might not let him in. They hadn’t parted on amazing terms, after all.

Just when he was seriously considering leaving her alone and going back to his own room (or to Ben’s, to cry more on that wide, clean floor) he heard footsteps, and the door slid open.

Padme looked tired and unhappy.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” She asked with a frown. She probably meant to be stern but it came out worried.

“Probably,” he admitted. “I just—I needed to tell you that I’m sorry.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Her tunic fit snugly over her distended belly. He was more than a bit amazed that there were two children growing in there. Padme was a small woman and she carried a lot of burdens. But she carried them gracefully. Anakin hadn’t wanted to add to her burdens and had ended up doing just that. 

He didn’t tell her enough how awe-inspiring she was.

“For what, exactly?”

“For lying. To you. For putting you in a position where you felt like you had to lie  _ for _ me. For making you live a lie.”

Padme glared at him. “You didn’t  _ make _ me live a lie. We  _ agreed _ to it. I even enjoyed it, at first. I can admit that. The sneaking around, the stolen glances and the secrecy. We both knew we’d be living a lie. But I liked it too. It was exciting.”

She looked at him curiously, thinking. Then she seemed to steel herself before asking: “Are you apologizing…for  _ all _ of it?”

“No—”

“Because I don’t want your apologies,” Padme talked over him. “I just want to know where you’ll be— _ how _ things will be. I don’t like not knowing.” 

Her eyes shone and her arms tightened over her chest, drawing herself in. “We've been lucky enough to play both sides for a long time, Ani. To have a little bit of everything. But it's a half life we've been living. Never giving ourselves fully to one thing or another. It has to stop. Whether you choose us or the Jedi. You're going to sacrifice something. I've made my choice. I can't make yours too."

“I’ve made my choice Padme,” Anakin said, reaching out and pulling her arms apart from their tight hold on herself. When Padme allowed him to do so, he clasped her hands in his own. “I’m sorry if I made you worry that I’d choose anything over you—over our family. I’m sorry for a whole lot of things. But not this. Never this.”

Padme stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, crying softly into his chest.

She must have been very scared that he’d choose the Jedi over her. Or that he’d fall to the dark side over her. He wished he’d been able to reassure her sooner.

He could reassure her now, though. He could hold her tightly and tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he’d frightened her. He told her that he’d try to do better.

And if they received a few wary glances from shocked Jedi who passed them in the hallway? Well…he would adjust to the scrutiny. 

They weren’t hiding anymore.


	27. and you can't tell me what my spirit tells me isn't true, can you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from the song "White Cedar" by The Mountain Goats.

_ “You didn’t let me touch you.” _

This had been whispered to Rey as she and Ben had waited on Anakin and Obi-Wan in the hangar. His hands had spanned her hips—nearly encircling her—a thumb drawing lazy circles right above the swell of her backside. 

Rey had said nothing and Ben had leaned back to regard her. His expression dark and purposeful and hungry. It was a look she’d seen on him before but it never failed to quicken her heart rate as desire pooled deep in her belly.

But she could not forget their circumstances, they were in a crowded hangar. As much as she’d like to grab his hand and lead him away—lead him somewhere they could be alone—they had duties to attend to first. Duties he seemed more than willing to drop entirely.

Ben had followed her lead in the past. 

“Later,” she’d promised. 

Then, as they walked with Obi-Wan through the Temple, her hand held in Ben’s, it was all she could think about. 

It was a bit absurd, honestly. They were in danger. They’re knowledge was desperately needed to get the Republic and the Jedi Order and the clone army out of the situation that Palpatine had led them into. 

The last thing Rey should be preoccupied with were the details of Ben’s touch. (How would he go about it? What would they do? What would she enjoy?) The last thing Rey should be was inflamed with anticipation while sitting in a debriefing amidst Master Windu and Obi-Wan.

And yet, there she was. The debriefing Obi-Wan gave to Mace was incredibly detailed. Too detailed for a three day trip, honestly. Occasionally they would look to her for clarification and Rey would shrug or give a vague explanation with no details.

Why would Mace need details about the Force bond? Just because he’d never heard of its like didn’t make it less real. 

Why would he care why she’d befriended a darksider on Mandalore? It had felt right. 

Perhaps she was being defensive because she felt as though she were being interrogated again. 

Perhaps she was being impatient. 

Ben’s constant presence was a help and a hinderance. He soothed her defensiveness but fueled her impatience. He stayed close throughout the debriefing; holding her hand or placing encouraging touches on her shoulder, knee, spine.

Mace never asked for clarification regarding  _ that _ .

After Obi-Wan wrapped up Rey was sure they were finished but then Mace asked Ben to recount his confrontation with Palpatine and—yes, alright. That  _ was _ important. 

When that was finished Mace began to share with them all of the preemptive measures he’d taken to save what they could before things got even more outside of their control.

That was when something really caught Rey’s notice and brought her out of her own head and into the here and now.

“Wait,” she looked around at the collected group. “Yoda doesn’t even know what’s going on?”

Guilty glances were passed around the room.

Ben spoke first. “I tried to tell him. He wouldn’t listen.”

“We’re making do without his consent, for the time being,” Mace said gravely. “We just have to be careful—”

“But why?” Rey interrupted. “Why do it without him? If we could concentrate our efforts then we wouldn’t have to be careful. We wouldn’t have to wait. The clone issue would be resolving itself.”

“It is being resolved,” Mace reminded her testily.

“Slowly. Too slow. How long do you think it will take to get through every clone at our current pace?” She asked, thinking about Ahsoka’s concerns over the same question. “How many days? Weeks? Are we just supposed to hide at the Temple that whole time? Ask Palpatine nicely not to do anything sinister until we’re ready?”

No one spoke. Mace and Obi-Wan shared an uneasy glance like a silent exchange. Obi-Wan opened his mouth, probably to caution her against doing anything rash. Rey didn’t give him the chance.

“This is insane!” She stood from her seat, making her way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Mace called after her. 

“To air grievances!”

* * *

 

It just so happened that Rey found Master Yoda in her least favorite room in the entire Temple. 

Finding him had been easy, even if she’d received a lot of odd looks as she grabbed random passerby in the hallway to ask after Yoda’s whereabouts with a trail of grown men behind her. Obi-Wan, admonishing her for being hasty and Mace, pleading that they at least discuss this first. 

Ben, at least, remained silent. Rey knew he supported her. He had tried and failed with Yoda. He believed she was the key to success. It was bolstering and daunting. 

Regardless, the four of them did eventually come to Master Yoda, who sat in a meditative state in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. 

The flow of water must have covered the sound of their approach because he didn’t turn to greet them.

“Master Yoda,” Rey called when she was within earshot. She stood before him as he came slowly out of his mediation; making her wait. 

“Ah, young Rey.” He eyed the group assembled at her back with surprise. “Problem, there is?”

There were a great many problems, as Rey saw it.

“Palpatine is a Sith Lord.” She said without preamble. There was no need, that she saw, to ease him into the truth. No need to give him the opportunity to disregard her. 

Yoda blinked several times in confusion, which turned to shock and finally to weary acceptance.

“Problem, that is.”

* * *

 

When Anakin awoke he was disoriented for a moment to find himself in an unfamiliar room, but there were familiar fingers combing through his hair—causing him to recall that Padme had drew him into Rey’s room and forced him to sleep. 

He could hear her, now, talking quietly. He turned over to find her speaking into a commlink, occasionally another woman’s voice would filter through. He didn’t recognize the other voice but he recognized the commlink. It was his.

She smiled down at him when he turned and she looked better than he’d last seen her. She looked refreshed and rested and radiant in clean, white Jedi robes. The sight took his breath away.

“One moment,” she mouthed down at him. “Yes, momma,” she said into the commlink. “I understand. And thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my Padme.” The woman on the commlink (Padme’s mother, apparently) said gravely. “But  _ please _ comm me again before you depart.”

“I promise.”

With that, Padme signed off. 

“Good morning,” she said, still scratching his scalp, pleasantly. “Or evening, I suppose.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Only about five hours,” Padme frowned. “We really need to work on better sleeping habits.”

“No,” Anakin argued, turning onto his back to stretch. “Our erratic sleep schedules will come in handy when the babies are born.”

“You’re probably right about that,” she laughed. 

Anakin really did love her smile. It had been a while since he’d seen it. Too long.

“You’re wearing robes.” He could blame the awe in his voice on just having woken up. Padme looked like a dream.

“I am. I borrowed some of Rey’s clothes after I showered. She has a lot of robes. Why does she have so many?”

“They’re not hers,” he told her, reaching over and caressing the cloth on her leg. Anakin knew that the hand woven wardrobe of the Jedi was a coarse fabric but it looked soft on Padme. Perhaps she had the ability to make even the most rudimentary garment into something fine. “She just picks them up wherever she finds them.”

“Well,” Padme shrugged. “Waste not want not.”

Anakin sat up so that his eyes could take in the sight of her better. She had apparently taken Rey’s stolen outer robes and had done a bit of strategic layering and cinching until they were presentable. Whatever magic she’d worked to make the plain Jedi attire look like ethereal, he didn’t know.  

“You look nice in Jedi robes.”

“Thank you,” Padme said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She’d pulled her hair out of her face with two simple braids and left the rest to fall in loose curls down her back. “They’re very comfortable.”

“I wish it were different,” Anakin mused. “I wish it was you who had the Force. You would have made an amazing Jedi.”

“I doubt that.”

Padme moved closer to him, laying her hand on his cheek. Her eyes dancing with mirth when she said: “Besides, it had to be this way.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, aware and uncaring that he was playing into some kind of joke.

“You’d be an atrocious politician.”

* * *

 

The problem with Yoda wasn’t that he questioned the validity of Rey’s statement. He believed her when she’d told him that Palpatine was a Sith. 

The problem was his refusal to do anything about it. 

As far as Rey could tell, his arguments boiled down to legal validity. They couldn’t prove it. They had Ben and Anakin and Padme’s testimony. But Anakin was a Jedi and therefore, biased. Padme could testify, at her own peril. Ben wasn’t even technically born yet so they couldn’t prove that he was a real person, let alone a citizen of the Republic.

Yoda had an excuse for everything. A hole to punch into all of Rey’s plans. She wondered how he did it. 

Had he thought it through this much already? Had he suspected Palpatine and just not seen a way to get around the Sith in the Senate? 

Rey couldn’t be sure, as he remained obstinately tight lipped about it. Shooting her down with perfunctory precision, as if he was used to doing so. 

They went from one hypothetical to another. Looping around the problem for what felt like an eternity. Rey came at the problem from any angle she could manage, with help from Ben. 

Occasionally Mace and Obi-Wan would jump in, but their help was mostly begging Master Yoda to just listen, to look at it from a different point of view. They were so very used to Yoda taking the lead and following. Used to being of the same mind as Yoda. So much so, that disagreement on an issue so encompassing was foreign and strange.

When Rey had officially been arguing with Yoda for several hours she was forced to conclude that this had been one of her spectacularly bad ideas.

_ They can’t all be winners. _ Ben supplied, unhelpfully, through the bond.

“So your plan is to do  _ nothing _ !” Rey cried in frustration. 

Mace had shut the entrances to the Room of a Thousand Fountains long ago, to give the argument a semblance of privacy but it was futile. The longer they argued the more heated Rey became and she was not inclined to tempering her frustration the way the Jedi of this age were. Her voice carried. Occasionally she’d see one of the doors open a crack, just for someone to realize that they didn’t really want to be there anyway.

“As the Force wills it, all is.” Yoda spoke sagely, his hands folded over his gimer stick. He’d remained seated throughout their exchange, the picture of serenity. 

She hated that. 

Rey was inclined to movement, pacing and squaring her shoulders and baring her teeth. Yoda’s stillness made her feel like a trapped animal.

“How defeatist of you, Master Yoda,” Ben commented from where he stood. She didn’t need the bond to know he was agitated. He’d continuously stalked the edges of the room, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Defeatist! Hm!” Yoda scoffed. “Know my place within the Force’s will, I do. Say the same, can _ you _ ?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ben shrugged off Yoda’s barb. “Rey and I are here because of the Force’s will. Perhaps you should listen to us.”

“Mouthpiece, the Force does not have.”

Mace sighed loudly from where he sat on the duracrete edge of a fountain, rubbing his forehead. “Say that we wait on dealing with the Sith—”

Rey squawked indignantly.

“We still ought to do something about the clones,” he continued, throwing Rey an unimpressed look at her interruption, before turning to Yoda. “It isn’t their fault that they were dragged into this mess.  _ Made for  _ this mess,” he amended, sadly.

“Children of the Force, they are. We all are.”

“And what gives you the right to decide their fate?” Rey asked, hands on her hips.

The question was directed at Yoda but Obi-Wan answered. “The clones are the Jedi’s responsibility.”

“But not their property! Shouldn’t you include them? Ask their opinion?”

Obi-Wan raised his hands toward Rey in a placating gesture and she realized that she’d cut him off before he could finish. 

She was so defensive that she was jumping to the wrong conclusions among her allies. She crossed her arms and waited for him to get to his point. She hoped she looked properly contrite at her mistake and not simply impatient.

“Captain Rex, for one would like the inhibitor chips removed,” he continued. “He’s gone so far as to remove his own.”

“From himself?” Mace asked, confused and impressed. “How?”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“What do you have to say about that?” Rey asked, turning to Yoda.

“All rights the clones, to their own bodies, should have. The Jedi’s help, I cannot allow.”

Rey buried her face into her hands. She wanted to scream. She was close to screaming. It was like Yoda was  _ right there  _ in terms of being on board, but then he swerved spectacularly at the last possible second. Could they could not reach an accord?

A door creaked open again. Rey didn’t look up, sure that it was another passerby that would mutter “wrong room” and beat a hasty retreat.

“Good of you to join us,” Ben said, his voice dry.

Rey raised her head and saw Anakin and Padme entering the room, hand in hand.

“You’re the one who sent me away,” Anakin grumbled when he came to a stop beside Ben. He looked around the room, curious and anxious, and a bit shy. He did not let go of Padme’s hand. She, by contrast, seemed calm and contented.

“You needed sleep,” Ben reminded him. “You were on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

“Was not,” Anakin murmured, petulantly.

As they spoke something had finally spurred Yoda to movement. He stood from his seat and wandered over to where Ben stood with his grandparents. Then, he pointed his gimer stick at Anakin and Padme’s clasped hands. 

“Oh no,” Obi-Wan said with dread, summing up the look on Anakin’s face.

“Explain yourself, you will, Knight Skywalker!”

“Is this really the time?” Rey cried. “Now? With everything else that’s going on!”

Yoda gave her a withering look. “Understand, you do not.”

Rey was really tired of people telling her what she did and didn’t understand. “I understand that we’re not done yet! You can’t simply dismiss me.”

Yoda turned his back to her once more.

The clear dismissive gesture caused her anger to surge inside of her, threatening to overflow. She thought she’d been angry before. Now she was livid.

Now she was a reckoning.

Her anger was an inferno, that spilled from her—into the Force.

_ Rey. _ Ben cautioned, catching the spike of her ire. 

She exhaled in a gush, trying to expel it. It was too much. 

Ben moved, as though to come to her, but she caught his intent. He wished to cover her—to act as her shield—as he had, so long ago. But she stopped him. If she was going to falter, then she wanted the cause of that misstep to feel it. He would know the effects of his actions.

“The more you tighten your grip, Master Yoda. The more Jedi will slip through your fingers.”

The words were pulled out of her, echoing in the Force.

All eyes were on her as a tense hush fell over the room. Of course, she wasn’t shielding properly—she couldn’t even  _ think _ properly.  _ How dare he? _ Surely everyone could feel it? Surely she wasn’t alone in her outrage.

“Temper yourself, young Rey,” Yoda warned sternly. He and Rey stood in the center of the room, the others gathered in a loose circle around them. “Release your anger or my ear, you will lose.”

“Have I had your ear, Master Yoda? Was that what you were doing? _Listening_ _to me_?”

“Listen, I did. Agree, I do not.”

“Why?” Rey spat. He’d given her excuses for hours—led her around and around—but she’d heard no explanation. If he had decided to damn this timeline then she needed to know why.

“Only act, the Jedi do, when balance, we can maintain.”

Ben snorted derisively.

“ _ The Force, doesn’t need you to maintain balance for it _ .”

The words came like a hiss from her. Her anger collapsing into itself; compressing into this: the essence of her dissatisfaction with the Jedi Order. Ironically, it was what Luke had taught her. “Presumably, the Force balanced itself  _ millennia _  before the Jedi Order began. And  _ I can assure you _ that the Force will balance itself decades after the Jedi Order ends.”

The hush over the room was a sinister thing. No one wanted to hear this. No one wanted to contemplate their own end. It was an ugly thought that the mind shied away from in an attempt to spare itself pain. But Rey had suffered her whole life, she’d lived amidst her own possible end since she was a child. 

One could not escape these things.

“Your time, not my future, is.”

“It will be if you don’t act,” she assured him without malice. Her words were harsh, but they were the truth. “You’ve set the course of leaving the same legacy you left in my time.”

“What, that is?”

“Failure. The legacy of the Jedi is failure,” she said, thinking of Luke, the last member of a dying religion, desolate with despair. An island, himself.

Rey thought of Ahsoka, failed by the Order who was supposed to care for her. Were their others like her?  

She thought about the abandoned temple on Ilum. How many other temples sat, empty, across the galaxy? 

She thought of a young Ben Solo, who had been a victim of fear, that was passed down from generation to generation, like a family heirloom. 

She even considered Anakin, so scared of his own emotions that he could seem to be two different people. The good Jedi Knight and the Monster.

Weren’t the Jedi supposed to be inspiring?

“Not the Jedi way, it is.”

“Your Jedi way only serves few and fails a great many. It is rigid and resistant to change,” she assured him. It didn’t matter anymore if he believed her or if she convinced him. This was what she had seen. This what what she had experienced under his care. This was her truth. “Your Jedi Way is disconnected from the galaxy. It’s disconnected from the beings who gather in this Temple and try to understand it. It breeds disappointment and shame.”

How could he not accept that when the evidence was right in front of him? In the form of one of his Jedi Knights, holding hands with his pregnant wife?

How many other Jedi had felt as she had as they tried to learn? How many had felt like failures for struggling with a teaching method that refused to bend to the needs of the students? Had felt inadequate amidst the grandiosity of the Jedi? 

Was her inability to understand shielding the way Obi-Wan had tried to teach her just because she hadn't been raised by the Jedi the way Yoda thought Force sensitives ought to be? Or was it because the Jedi way didn’t account for different ways of thinking?

Yoda was silent. He simply stared at her, his eyes ancient and appraising.

Was she arrogant for even suggesting that the system didn’t work because it hadn’t worked for her?

_ You’re not wrong _ , Ben reassured her. 

“A Jedi, I thought you wished to be?” Yoda finally asked.

Rey’s shoulders fell as the fight left her. She was tired after so long fighting. “Not this type of Jedi.”

“Which parts of the Jedi philosophy you wish to follow, pick and choose, you cannot!”

Rey raised her head, playing at confidence she didn’t feel now that she’d expelled her anger.

“Of course I can.” She was a scavenger, after all. She would only keep what was useful. What worked or could be fixed or improved upon. She could keep only what would enrich her. 

Sure, she wasn’t selling parts for food but there were other types of nourishment. 

The Jedi saw the Force as two-sided. One good and one bad. This was a sanitized version of what Rey understood the Force to be. She looked, instead for that which enriched her spirit and what blighted it. This, Rey knew, was a scale, weighed by the individual and not a one-size-fits-all philosophy.

Rey knew that peering into the dark, although dangerous in excess, could supplement understanding of oneself, and therefore the Force. Those parts had to be faced. They must be looked on and acknowledged for what they were, or they would grow while you weren’t looking and try to consume you. 

“How can you connect to the Force when your Jedi are frightened of their own fear?” Rey asked, shaking her head. “Of their anger! You’ve helped Sidious flourish by maiming the Force. You’ve taught thousands of beings to cut themselves off from half of it. Your Jedi way is being scared of your own shadows! These people count on you to guide them. To nourish them and you’ve fed them with doubt and restrictions and with guilt.”

Yoda regarded her sadly. “Fear for the young ones you train, I do. With such notions.” 

“This isn’t about our future,” Ben reminded him, a growl in his voice, offended on Rey’s behalf. “It’s about what's happening now.”

Yoda closed his eyes. “Mindful of the future, all Jedi must be.”

“But not at the expense of the moment,” Obi-Wan spoke causing Yoda to open his eyes and give him a strange look. “Everyone has a different path to the Force, Master.”

Slowly, Yoda turned to Ben. “Agree with her, you do?”

Ben didn’t look impressed that Yoda even had to ask. “You know I do.”

“Taught you to respect for your elders, your Jedi Master should have.”

Ben scowled down at Yoda. “My parents taught me all I needed to know about respect for my elders.”

“Untangled preconceived notions, a  _ proper _ Master could have,” Yoda grumbled.

“I’m sure _his_ _Master_ tried to teach him that.”

Yoda looked curious despite himself. “His Master, who might have been, hmmm?”

Ben sneered. “The Master of my Master was you, Master Yoda.”

Yoda gave a derisive humph before turning away from Ben and toward Anakin.

“What of you Skywalker. Agree with her, do you?”

Anakin looked taken aback to be singled out. “I—um. Well, I don’t know if I  _ agree _ with her, Master Yoda, but I don’t wholly  _ disagree _ either. I’d like to hear more.”

Yoda regarded Anakin, taking in his comfort in that moment. The comfort that Padme brought him, with her hand in his.

“Knew it, I did,” Yoda grumbled turning away. “Tried to tell Qui-Gon, I did. Too old, you were. Too old to be taught our ways.”

Anakin opened his mouth but before he could say anything Obi-Wan spoke.

“He was nine, Master Yoda. It isn’t as though Qui-Gon brought back a geriatric old man.”

Yoda raised a bushy brow at the two Jedi Masters in the room. “Agree with her, you do?”

Mace took a deep breath, stealing himself. “This isn't about picking sides. This is about saving lives.”

Yoda looked to Obi-Wan who surprised Rey by saying, simply: “Yes.”

All was quiet. The tension was still there but it was different; quieter, settled.

“Leave us,” Yoda glanced back at the others. “Wish to speak to my Jedi, do I.”

“You can’t exclude us—” She started but Obi-Wan cut her off.

“It’s alright, Rey,” he said, his mustache twitching into a slight smile. “You’ve convinced him.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Rey and Ben started to leave the room. They were trailed by Padme and Anakin.

“Stay with the Jedi, you will not, Skywalker?”

Rey glanced back at Anakin to see that he had stopped and turned to look at Yoda. His hand hadn’t left Padme’s the whole time.

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m staying with my family from now on.”

Yoda’s shoulders slumped. “A shame.”

Anakin said nothing, but Rey watched as he shut the door behind the four of them.

* * *

 

“What now?” Rey asked after the door closed. She wasn’t glowing with success, Ben noted, she was tired and low-spirited. She was worried that she hadn’t done enough. That it wouldn’t be enough to save anyone.

Ben reached for her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

“Now we wait,” Padme said with a smug smile. She couldn’t feel the bond or the reassurance Ben tried to send to Rey, but she had sharp eyes.

Ben would have to ignore her for now.

“This is good, Rey. You were able to wear him down.”

Rey rolled her eyes at him. “You think? I only talked for four hours.”

Her words were snappish but the tension was easing from her shoulders. Her doubt was making her prickly. That was alright. Ben understood. He’d just have to distract her.

But until his grandparents left them alone, he wouldn’t be able to do that in the way he’d  _ like _ to.

“Speaking of waiting.” He turned to Anakin. “You’re awake  _ already _ ?”

“I spelt for _five_ _hours_!” Anakin pointed out, baffled. “Add that to the two I spent in your room and I got a whole nights worth of sleep.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “One and a half.”

“You slept in Ben’s room?” Padme asked.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“He cried himself to sleep on the floor.”

“I did not!”

He had and he knew it. His face went red and Ben was gratified to hear Rey giggle softly, as if she were trying to stifle it.

“Let’s wait somewhere besides the hallway?” Padme suggested as Anakin glared at Ben. There was no real heat to it, at least. 

“Preferably someplace with beverages?” Rey suggested. “I’m parched.”

The other’s agreed and they made their way toward the lower levels of the Temple where the cafeteria was located.

As they walked in silence, Ben was struck with the knowledge that  _ he _ was the link between these people. Walking ahead of him were  _ his _ grandparents and beside him was  _ his _ …Rey. His future, hopefully.

It wasn’t that he had to introduce them, but he felt a responsibility to keep the conversation rolling. Which was a daunting prospect. He wasn’t much for idle chatter.

“What are you wearing?” Ben asked Padme, pulling on one of the wide sleeves of the outfit she wore in a teasing way. (And hoping that she’d take the conversational burden off of his shoulders.)

Padme threw a pout at him over her shoulder. “You don’t like it?” She held her arms out to either side of her so that the sleeves billowed behind her as she walked. “I spent a good while trying to match all of them.”

Ben felt Rey startle. “You made that?” she asked, clearly impressed. “Out of what?”

Padme glanced back at her with panic while Anakin let out a bark of laughter.

“Um,” Padme matched her pace with Rey’s so that they were walking together now. “They’re your robes. I hope you don’t mind. I stayed the night at the Temple and didn’t have a change of clothes.”

Rey looked at the outfit Padme wore again, this time with a more critical eye.

“Those aren’t my robes.”

“I told you,” Anakin said to Padme, smiling at some private joke that Ben and Rey didn’t understand.

“They were in your room,” Padme told Rey, ignoring her husband.

Rey shrugged. “Well, they're yours now.”

Anakin turned, walking backwards with ease. “Are they really yours to give away?” He asked with a cheeky smile at Rey.

“What do you mean?”

“Those are some of the robes you’ve been picking up around the Temple,” he told her.

“Oh,” Rey said as understanding dawned on her. “Well, I rarely wear them.”

“Then why do you taken them?” Anakin asked. “If you don’t use them?”

“I do use them! They make good blankets, for example. It gets cold here at night, what with all the duracrete,” she waved absently at the walls. “But you can keep them, Padme. I don’t think I’ll miss them now.” 

“Oh?” Anakin said, overly interested. “Why’s that?”

“I—” Rey glanced at Ben.

“Don’t think you’ll be sleeping alone anymore, hmm?” Anakin teased.

“Ani, stop,” Padme said sternly. As if she had any right to. What with her knowing smiles and her offering to pay for weddings. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“I’m not  _ embarrassed _ ,” Rey argued. “I just can’t imagine why it’d be any of his business how I choose  _ to keep myself warm at night _ .”

It was said so suggestively that Ben could feel his ears turn red. Padme laughed, surprised and delighted.

Anakin looked like he’d swallowed a slug. His smile fell as his face went pale, and them bright red.

“I forgot you were shameless,” Anakin admitted. “This isn’t fun anymore.”

Rey, for her part, had stopped their progression by doubling over to laugh at him, holding a stitch at her side.

* * *

 

It had been a relief to laugh for a moment but Rey’s anxieties continued to simmer, just below the surface. 

When they reached the canteen everyone grabbed beverages and some food. Rey, for one was starving. She’d had a ration bar that morning but she’d been running on adrenaline and the force of her own will for a while by then. 

Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was hungry. Anakin, in particular was eating with gusto. He was also the first one to voice his own concerns.

“Hypothetically,” Anakin started once they were all sitting around contentedly with full bellies. (It had to be the strangest dinner parties Rey had ever been a part of. Here she sat, in the past with her enemy turned everything and his grandparents. They were also getting some strange looks from Jedi and Padawans, but that was probably due to Padme’s presence.) “If Yoda were to bow out, what’s the plan?”

Padme looked to Ben and Rey. “Did anyone tell him about what was already happening with the clones?”

“No,” Ben said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t brought up.”

“So whether he takes part in it or not, the clones will get their chips removed,” Padme affirmed, relieved.

“Slowly,” Rey grumbled. Thinking guiltily of Ahsoka and the mess Rey and Obi-Wan had left her in.

“It’s better than nothing,” Anakin supplied. “If we knew how to disable them remotely that’d be another matter, but Palpatine likely has that information on lock down.”

Rey sighed. He was right.

Padme seemed to debate for a moment before saying: “I’ve received confirmation from the Queen of Naboo. She’s into contact with Jedi Master Shak Ti. She’s deployed the Naboo handmaidens and the Royal Guard to assist in the removal of the inhibitor chips. On a voluntary basis, of course.”

Anakin looked more worried than relieved. “They know about the Chancellor?”

“I will not lie to my queen,” Padme told him.

Anakin looked like he was going to point out all that could go wrong with such honesty  but Ben jumped in before he could get started. “That’s great, Padme.”

“It’s not much,” she demurred.

“It isn’t insignificant, either.”

“And Palpatine?” Rey asked. “If Yoda doesn’t agree to help us, what then?”

To her surprise Padme reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

“We’ll figure something out,” she said with a kind smile. Rey relaxed at the earnest look in her eyes. “With or without Yoda, We’ll work together and find a solution.”

Padme seemed to Rey to be self-contained, confident, and kind. All traits that Rey admired and wished very much to be. But as Padme turned that kindness onto Rey, she was reminded again of Ahsoka and the outrage she’d expressed on Padme’s behalf. Rey felt very unkind.

“I told Obi-Wan about the twins,” she blurted. “I’m sorry, Padme.”

“Padme?” Anakin cried. “What about me?”

Rey barely spared him a glance. He’d brought it on himself. “You’ll live.”

To Rey’s surprise, Padme laughed. “It’s alright, Rey. It was bound to get out anyway. Ben mentioned you were going to build a lightsaber?”

“Oh yeah!” In all the excitement of being reunited with Ben and then arguing with Yoda, she’d forgotten to show off. Now she reached over—Padme letting go of her hand—to unclip her saber from her belt.

Anakin, of course, grabbed it first.

“Double bladed?” He observed as he inspected the hilt without igniting it.

Rey tried to push down her annoyance at his presumption. She’d wanted to show it to Ben. “I grew up using a quarterstaff,” she told him, distractedly.

Padme’s brows furrowed but she said nothing. Anakin just nodded.

“Did Obi-Wan give you the ‘this weapon is your life’ speech?”

“You know,” she mused. “I don’t think he mentioned that.”

“Pity. It’s a good speech. He  _ really _ hammers it home.”

Rey snorted. “I’ll bet.”

“Have you used it?” He asked.

“I sparred with Ahsoka a bit while we were on Mandalore.”

Both Anakin and Padme looked at her, surprised. 

“Ahsoka,” Anakin breathed, his expression unreadable.

“Why were you on Mandalore?” Padme asked.

“Yes, Ahsoka.” As she spoke Ben plucked her saber from Anakin’s slackened grip. “She sends her regards.” Rey watched as Ben inspected the saber in much the same way Anakin had. A slight smile on his lips. “Obi-Wan went to ask Rex about the inhibitor chips.”

“How is she?” Anakin asked.

Rey rolled her eyes. “Busy. Why don’t you comm her or something? She misses you too.”

“Who are we talking about?” Ben asked, handing Rey her saber back. It appeared she’d have to ask for his thoughts later. She could ask him now, through the bond, but she was not confident in her ability to maintain a verbal conversation while also having a mental one about an entirely different topic. 

“Anakin’s former Padawan,” she informed him, clipping her saber back on her belt. “Ahsoka Tano.”

Ben immediately rounded on Anakin. “Ahsoka Tano was your Padawan?!”

“You know Ahsoka?” Anakin asked the question but it was one Rey harbored as well.

“I know  _ of _ her,” Ben clarified. “Who hasn’t heard of Ahsoka Tano?”

Anakin appeared to be hanging on Ben’s every word. “What? Is she famous in your time or something?”

“Um, I haven’t heard of her,” Rey said. She’d met her in this time, of course, but the name hadn’t seemed familiar to her.

Ben looked at her like she was crazy.

“Fulcrum?”

Rey gasped. “NO.”

“Yes. The original, at least. I think the codename got passed around.”

“I sparred with Fulcrum,” Rey said with wonder.

Anakin wore the biggest smile. “I’m so proud of her. Can someone tell me what I’m proud of her for?”

“She was an informant for the Rebel Alliance in the years after the Empire was formed,” Ben told him. “She helped them gain traction so that they could eventually overthrow the Empire.”

“Ah.” Anakin shrank back, contrite. “I see.”

Padme swooped in immediately, putting her arms around him. “That’s fantastic,” she said to Ben and Rey as she soothed her husband’s guilt over things he hadn’t done. “So the Empire got overthrown?”

Rey looked at Ben, who looked at her.

“Kind of,” she said. She wasn’t entirely sure how to tell Padme that the Empire had never really gone away. How to explain the First Order?

“For a few years,” Ben said. “Before imitators started up.”

“Imitators?” Padme’s shoulders fell. “Who’d want to emulate tyranny?”

Ben looked away. “Plenty of messed up people.”

“Oh,” Padme said her voice soft and sad.

The mood at the table had changed so suddenly that Rey felt a bit dizzy. She scrambled, trying to think of something to say to bring back the levity they had shared only moments ago.

“So...What are you two going to do after?”

Anakin and Padme looked at each other.

“After?” Anakin asked.

“After we defeat Palpatine.”

Anakin looked momentarily lost. Had he not even considered it?

“We’re going to Naboo,” Padme declared. She still had a hold on Anakin but now Rey got the sense that the extra contact was for both of their benefits.

“We are?” The news seemed to surprise Anakin but he didn’t sound angry to be caught off guard, or even curious as to her reasoning. He sounded immensely relieved.

“I promised my mother,” Padme explained. “She’s incredibly worried. It’s a promise I intend to keep.”

Anakin nodded. “Okay. We’re going to Naboo.”

Padme smiled up at him.

“What’s it like?” Rey asked. “Naboo.”

Padme turned her smile on her, finally letting go of Anakin. “It’s a beautiful planet. With breathtaking landscapes and gentle animals. Anakin and I were married there—at the lake country. It’s a wonderful place for weddings.”

This last part was said pointedly, for reasons Rey wasn’t entirely clear on.

“Aren’t you a bit biased,” Ben asked. “She’s the Naboo representative in the Senate,” he explained for Rey.

“It’s  _ home _ ,” Padme said. “Of course I’m biased. You’ll both just have to come see for yourselves.”

“I’ve been to Naboo,” Ben said.

“Not with me,” Padme argued. As though her very presence on the planet changed its entire appeal.

Rey was sold on the trip at the words: ‘lake country’.

“I’d love to see it.”

Padme beamed, pleased with her response.

From there, a good deal of time was spent discussing a trip to Naboo. What they would do, where they would stay, the food they would eat. It was a pleasant distraction. Even if Rey had her doubts that she’d ever get to see the planet with Padme. She had a Sith Lord to defeat, after all.

That was how Obi-Wan found them and gave them the news: A Council meeting had been called. Clone Commanders had been asked to holo in. He and Mace had laid out the facts as they were. A vote had been held and Yoda had acquiesced with the results. 

From this moment forward, all the Jedi in the field would prioritize the removal of the inhibitor chips over all standing orders. 

They were encouraged to move quickly. Because their actions would undoubtedly get back to Palpatine. There was no stopping that.


	28. invent my own family, if it comes to that (hold them close. hold them near)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest. This is mostly smut. I really wanted a Reylo chapter before we headed into the thick of things and they are at the stage in their relationship where they care not one bit if they are in a sacred temple... So, if you want to skip that at least make sure that you read the italicized section at the end. It will lead into the next chapter.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Hebrews 11:40" by The Mountain Goats.

Rey was so relieved that the Jedi Order was finally taking this seriously that it took her a moment to realize that she and Ben were alone. 

Anakin and Padme left shortly after the matter had been settled. They were going back to Padme’s apartment to pack and plan. Obi-Wan went with them as an escort and to transport someone named Caleb back to the Temple (Rey hadn’t gotten the full story about that).

With nothing left to do for the time being, she and Ben could finally sneak off. 

By then it was early evening and the cafeteria was starting to fill with Jedi, but Ben didn’t seem to mind the extra scrutiny when he took her hand and guided her out of the steadily filling room.

Rey was relieved to finally be alone…and nervous. She was certain they would go up to the residential levels. Where they’d lock the door and they’d undress and he would touch her. She would let him—without interruption, without diversion. Without being overwhelmed. Of course, not _that_. 

She would be confident and desirable. She would _not_ be so overcome with nerves by the knowledge that she was firmly in unknown territory now—that she was on the threshold of her future and every dizzying possibility that could entail—that she was nauseous.

Ben, instead, took her to the dojos and Rey was immediately flooded with guilt.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, stopping in the entrance of the training room, causing Ben’s hold on her hand to be pulled taunt before he stopped too, still holding onto her hand.

He turned to look at her, curiously. “No.”

Rey worried her lip. “But you felt…that.”

She could play at bravado with everyone else, but not Ben. Ben would always know when her boldness was an act. The bond could be both a blessing and a curse in that regard. He’d asked her to keep it open—had always seemed to gather resolve from it—but what about when her feelings weren’t straightforward? Should she have raised her shields while she worked through her own nerves? Sparing him from having to bear witness to her anxieties and perhaps draw the wrong conclusion?

“Yes,” Ben told her. “I felt that.”

“I’ve upset you.”

“Do I feel upset?”

He did not.

Another thought occurred to Rey; one she knew was brought on by her own insecurities and had no basis in fact. Still, it ate at her. “Did you change your mind?” Did he not want to touch her anymore?

Ben rubbed his thumb reassuringly over her hand, possibly catching her sudden worry. “I didn’t change my mind. Did you?”

“No! I just—” Rey thought about it. “I need to ease into it.”

What they had done earlier—what _she_ had done—that had been easy. She had been acting on her own desires while also learning what he liked. It was a boost to her own confidence; making herself feel capable, powerful. Drawing pleasure from Ben with nothing but her hands and her mouth.

She hadn’t let Ben touch her. It wasn’t that she didn’t _want_ him to touch her—she very much did—she just didn’t think she knew _how_ . She’d so rarely been touched by another person, and never in _that_ way.

Kissing was close, but only just. She kept remembering how she’d shoved him away before she’d left with Obi-Wan. Of how confused he’d been. How he was prone to blame himself for everything.

Having desires and being desired were two entirely different things. One involved more vulnerability than the other.

“Me too.” Ben’s admission surprised her.

And yes, Rey could feel his nerves now. She had to remember that she wasn’t the only one that intimate touch was new to. They were in this together.

“That’s why we’re here,” Ben continued.

“We’re—” Rey looked around in confusion. “We’re going to have sex in the dojo?”

“No—well—”

“No.”

Ben shrugged. “We’re here to relieve tension.”

“Oh.”

He stepped closer so that she had to crane her neck to keep his gaze, which was suddenly serious again.

“And Rey. We don’t have to do anything right away—or at all—if you don’t want to.”

“I want to I just—”

“I want you to know that it’s not an expectation,” he continued, cutting her off. There was a need coming from him. He wanted her to understand this. “You have me. However and whenever you decide. I’ll follow your lead.”

Their love was new and it was unique to them. It was tempting to plunge right in, explore everything it had to offer as quickly as possible. Tempting, but not necessary. It would be what they needed it to be. Whatever they decided to make it.

“Alright,” Rey agreed, letting her gratitude flow through the bond. “But I’ll let you know if I want you to lead instead.”

Ben smirked. “Anytime.” He pulled on her hand until Rey finally relented and followed him into the training room.

“Since you’re leading this excursion, what are we doing?” She asked as he led her into the center of the room. “Sparring?”

“No.” To her surprise Ben let go of her hand and continued on without her until her finally turned to lean against the far wall, comfortable and expectant. “I want to watch how you move with that new saber.”

“Really?” She asked, unable to squash her sudden surge of excitement.

Ben motioned her to go ahead. Rey widened her legs and took her saber in hand; eager to show off.

* * *

He had no idea that she was so capable with a staff. It was a comforting reminder that even if they had access to each other’s emotions and thoughts, they could still learn things about each other. He didn’t know her favorite smell, for instance. He didn’t know how she chose to relax. He didn’t know if she preferred caf or tea or neither. They had so much to learn about each other, still. He was eager to get started. He wanted to know everything.

He would start here, by watching her work through stances and throw powerful swings at imaginary opponents. He’d start by memorizing the way her purple blade cast her features in stark relief. He would start by admiring her because he could feel her wish to be admired and because she deserved it.

He meant every word he’d told Rey. Down to his core, he’d meant it.

Did that make him a creep for getting hard while watching her run through cadences?

Maybe.

He hadn’t anticipated it affecting him in this way. But, Force help him, she was beautiful, and strong, and purposeful. It was an enormous turn on.

When she’d run the gamut or had her fill of exercise, she turned to face him.

He’d mostly mastered himself by then (or at the very least discreetly tucked his erection into the waistband of his pants and hoped she didn’t take offense.)

Now Rey was loose and at ease. Her thoughts hadn’t dwelled on her nerves in quite some time.

She looked at him with a shy smile while she deactivated her saber. “Come here.”

He didn’t have to ask if she was sure, he could feel the swell of her affection through the bond. Still, Ben approached her cautiously, fully intending to curb his initial instinct, which was to hold onto her and never let go; to touch her and never stop. Rey, he knew, would chafe under such an encompassing union. 

“Tell me when to stop.”

Rey nodded. 

As Ben slowly caressed her face on his way to cradle her head, he was struck with the reminder that this was the dojo where she’d first kissed him. He would literally kill anyone who interrupted them this time.

Slowly, he tilted her face up at a better angle to kiss her. It started slowly, as all good things should, building in intensity the longer it went. He felt like he was getting better at this part, that the practice was proving beneficial. The way she wrapped her arms around him and sighed into his mouth only confirmed this for him. 

As she allowed the kiss to deepen he let his hands to roam; trailing her neck over the junction of her shoulder. Instead of going around her, the way he usually did, his hand trailed over her front as he palmed her breast through her tunic. Rey, jumped with a gasp.

Ben pulled back. Quickly removing his hands from her entirely in concern.

“It’s fine,” Rey hastened to reassure him. She grabbed his hands and planted them on her chest. He got the feeling of newness from her. She’d never been touched there before. “Keep going.”

He tried to go slow—Force knows he really did—as he worked his lips down her neck, licking and sucking on the sensitive skin, and palmed her through the fabric until she gasped and clawed at his shoulders. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing or where he intended to go with this—only that he wanted to put his mouth all over her just to hear the sounds that she made. 

When he pulled pointedly at the knot that belted the tunic in place around her waist, Rey simply nodded, fast and breathlessly.

This was a bad idea, they were in a public space, after all. But the Temple was quiet around them. And Ben was rather fond of some of his bad ideas.

He undid the knot and let the cord fall to the floor, using one hand to part the halves of her tunic around her slim frame and another to push up her undershirt. 

And she was bare chested before him, shivering slightly at the chill of the room, her pink nipples pebbled from exposure. Ben ran a thumb experimentally over the hard nub of flesh, completely enthralled. Glancing up at Rey’s flushed face he could feel that she was nervous. Not about him touching her, but the general nervousness that came with being seen for the first time. That instinctual shame. Ben would ease that in anyway that he could.

“You’re so beautiful, Rey.” She was. She always was, but there was a look about her when she was aroused that caused her freckles to stand out starkly across her flushed skin and her eyes to shine. “I could look at you forever.”

Despite her current condition, a memory slipped through the bond and Ben suddenly knew that when she was a child, and all alone on Jakku, she’d go days without anyone even sparing her a glance. Sometimes it would make her feel unreal; like a ghost. But ghosts didn’t get so hungry.

Ben wanted to make her feel real.

Without looking away from her gaze he went to his knees. When her brow furrowed and she started projecting her confusion he leaned forward and licked over a nipple. Rey gasped but the thrill that shot through the bond only proved to encourage Ben. He’d never done anything like this but he could nibble and suck on her sensitive skin and catalogue her reaction through the bond. He’d do it as long as she’d let him. Mouthing over any bare part of her that she chose to share with him, like licking a wound.

Rey’s hands went instinctively to his head, holding onto his ears, roughly while he suckled her. Her tunic and undershirt had fallen around his head. They’d look ridiculous if anyone interrupted them. Ben didn’t care. 

He’d spent a long time, as Kylo Ren, desecrating sacred temples… _this_ was his favorite way to desecrate a temple; with the taste of Rey on his lips and her moans filling the room.

“Stop.”

Ben untangled himself from her clothing and pulled away from her chest immediately but not without great reluctance. He didn’t ask why she’d stopped him. He didn’t need to know the specifics. He could feel that she was overwhelmed. If this was where she needed to draw the line then he would accept it, despite the fact that he was painfully hard.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Oh.

Wordlessly Ben pulled her undershirt down over his kiss reddened breasts and neatened her tunic before retrieving the sash and tying it back together; making her presentable—fit to be seen. It wasn’t a long walk back to his room, but it was a walk. If she wished to change her mind—or make up her mind about specifics—then the walk would give her the time to do so.

* * *

Her exercise had worked wonders to ease the tension and anxiety she’d felt. It had almost been meditative; allowing her to realize that her fear was holding her back. She wanted this relationship, she wanted to be intimate with Ben, and someday, she wanted a family of her own. She’d have to start somewhere. It could be overwhelming or underwhelming, but she’d never know until she allowed herself the experience.

Who better to be vulnerable with than the person who knew her best? With the person who loved her wholly. 

They had stumbled into a connection—metaphysical and emotional. Their secret selves the first they'd seen. But Rey wanted to take her time with this part. She'd never done this and she was shy about it. But she wanted to be shy. She wanted to discover this part of herself slowly and succulently. To savor every second.

With this in mind she set the door to lock when they reached Ben’s room.

Suddenly alone and in a place that was obviously more intimate than the training room, Ben seemed nervous. She wondered how long it would take him to stop feeling wary. Months? Years? She understood his reaction. Someone with as many missteps in their past as Ben would be cautious of themselves—of frightening her off with his eagerness. Of ruining everything. 

He needn't have worried. She’d came to this relationship honestly. She knew who he was and who he had been. There were going to be missteps in their future, for both of them, of that she was certain. They would have to deal with each other with patience and compassion.

Rey went to Ben. She admired the fullness of his lips with her own. She admired the muscles of his chest with her hands, the lushness of his hair with her fingers. The intensity of his gaze with the flutter it sent through her stomach; not fear, or nerves, but anticipation.

Their shirts were finally shucked with the last shred of Rey’s apprehension. She ran her hands over his bare skin while he did the same to her, causing shivers to run through her body.

Rey was used to coarse textures: sand, rust, stone. Ben’s skin was the softest thing she’d ever touched.

This time they ignored the narrow medical bed against the wall in favor of the futon that lay on the floor. It was chillier but roomier. Besides, Ben warmed the cold parts of her body by staying close; fitting his body against hers so that Rey could feel his hardness against her hip.

Rey swallowed, steeling herself as his hands roamed farther down the length of her body to ghost over parts of her that were still clothed but sensitive and embarrassingly responsive to his touch.

“Did you know the Jedi can’t have families of their own?” Rey asked in a rush as Ben nuzzled below her ear, his breath tickling her.

“I mean…” He buried his face in the croak of her neck, pausing in his attempts to devour her for the moment. “They’re _capable_.” It was a poor joke, one that drew her mind back to the solidness straining his pants.

“Ben.”

“They’re just not supposed to,” he confessed into her skin, the hand that wasn’t trapped to one side of her by her head on his bicep stroking over her bare skin as they spoke, leaving a trail of goose flesh in its wake.

So he had known.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She could feel him tempering himself to give her question the attention it deserved, his hand stilled on her ribs. “It’s an archaic rule. Luke didn’t see the relevance in it.”

“So you don’t agree with it?”

“No. But I’m not a Jedi.” He raised enough to look at her face. “Do you?”

“I’d rather have a family of my own than be a Jedi,” she admitted, hoping he agreed. “I may be an instrument of the Force but that doesn’t mean I have to give my whole life over to it. It’s mine.”

Ben’s expression, so sharp and intent a moment ago, softened. “We’ll make a life we can both be proud of,” he promised.

She could feel that he meant it too. She couldn’t imagine how difficult doing any of this would be with someone you were not bonded with. She did not envy anyone that experience.

With that settled Rey took a deep, steadying breath and shimmied out of her pants. Ben watched, speechless with surprise as she kicked them away.

“What?” Rey asked, cheekily, feigning bravado to hide how vulnerable she felt being fully naked. “Are we done already?”

“Gods no,” Ben exhaled. The hand on her ribs slid over her stomach, going low. “Are you sure? This isn’t too much?”

“I don’t know if I want to experience _everything_ right now,” she admitted. “But I want you to touch me.”

Trusting her to know what she wanted, Ben didn’t ask again.

Rey spread her legs a bit, allowing room for his hand. She could feel how easily his fingers slid through the wetness gathered at her slit and she was momentarily embarrassed despite how good that initial touch felt. She was already wet, it had happened in the dojo, with his face in her chest, and had made the walk up to his room incredibly unpleasant with her arousal coating the insides of her thighs.

“Don’t,” Ben said, his voice thick with arousal. “Please don’t be embarrassed.”

Rey nodded and tried to do as he asked while he explored her folds with a broad finger. It helped to turn her mind toward the bond for a moment; to allow herself to take in his arousal. He wasn’t put off, so why should she be embarrassed?

“Where does it feel best?” Ben asked, bringing her back to herself.

“Um.” It all felt pretty good at the moment but she understood what he meant. Just like she hadn’t instinctively understood how best to pleasure him, he wouldn’t know how to work her body into a frenzy. “A little higher. There should be a—there. That—that’s what I rub when I, um…take care of myself.”

Ben hummed, the sound coming from deep in his chest. She got the feeling that he’d like to watch her do that someday. She couldn’t imagine why it would interest him. “Like this?” He asked, his finger was running softly over the spot, up and down and up again.

“Circles,” she said. “Tight circles. And a little harder.”

Ben did as she asked and Rey bent one of her legs at the knee to give him more room.

“Mmmh. That’s good.”

Ben played with her for a while, his breathing growing rougher while she grew calm and languid as her pleasure began a steady climb.

When she had been relaxed for a bit she felt Ben stop long enough to poke a finger at her entrance. “Can I?”

Rey nodded her assent. 

He pushed a finger in with no resistance, sliding easily with the assistance of her slick arousal. It was a foreign feeling, not as immediately pleasurable as the nub of flesh above it but…not wholly uncomfortable. Rey tried to imagine what it would feel like when he pushed inside of her for real. His hands were large, his fingers wide and blunt, but they were nothing compared to his—

He crooked his finger and derailed her train of thought.

Ben continued, running his finger in and out of her, stroking her inside at intervals. He didn’t always hit the spot that made her weak but he tried. 

He must have had the same thought she’d had about proportions because soon he tried to add another finger. Only to stop when she hissed; the extra intrusion pinching uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” he said, giving her an apologetic peck on the lips. He must have felt the pang through the bond. “Fuck, Rey. Maybe it’s a good thing we’re waiting to have sex.”

“What do you mean?” Rey bristled.   

Ben looked down at her, confused by her reaction. “Only that you’re tight. I don’t think I could fit.”

Rey did not like that insinuation one bit.

“Rey,’ Ben cautioned. “This isn’t some kind of challenge.”

Wasn’t it?

“You just focus on those fingers,” she told him, laying back and splaying her legs even farther apart. “You let me worry about what fits where.”

He gave her a look that was part exasperated and part amused before doing as he was told, this time working his finger in circles—as if he was stirring her—instead of in and out, all the while working his thumb over that tender nub of flesh. Before long Rey was relaxed again, having tensed up a bit when she got offended.

It was a bit awkward, him stretching her, but he was attentive, kissing her and unconsciously rubbing his hips against her thigh; rutting to relieve some of the tension that he’d been carrying for a while now. 

Feeling capable, Rey took pity and fumbled with the clasp of his pants.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked as if panicked, halting his movements.

“I want to touch you too.”

Ben let out a shaky laugh, pulling his hips out of her reach. “That’s not a great idea.”

“Why not?” Rey demanded, agitated again.

“I want to focus on you,” he said, his voice almost a whine. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel earlier. I don’t think I can do that if your hand is on my cock.”

Rey felt her face heat involuntarily. What a stupid word. Why did he have to say it so confidently? 

“Fine,” she huffed. She knew she was being petulant and she could recognize his need to prove to himself that he could do this; that he was capable of satisfying her needs. But she felt spectacularly useless laying there, doing nothing.

Ben raised up again to stare down at her in disbelief. “Are you _angry_ at me?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“Not _at you_.” She was mostly frustrated with her own inability to just relax and enjoy herself.

“Fuck,” Ben cursed again, sitting up fully and pulling his finger out of her.

“Ben, what—” Rey raised up on her elbows, worried that she’d gone too far but Ben ignored her.

Instead of moving away from her completely—done with the whole thing as she’d feared—he moved his whole body lower, completely out of her reach.

“Lay back,” he commanded, a heavy hand on her thigh; pushing it gently to the floor.

Rey was a bit ashamed for the way she’d acted but she still didn’t relinquish control so easily.

“You’ll still stop if I ask?”

“Yes,” he assured her, his voice softening. “If not, you can kick me in the face.”

“Will do,” Rey murmured, laying back. 

She was more than a bit concerned that Ben had a…view, so to speak. Still, concerned or not, it made a world of difference to Ben. Apparently what Ben had learned in their short time being intimate with each other was that he was good with his mouth.

Rey couldn’t help but agree as he licked and mouthed her. The lack of finesse to his movements didn’t impede on her pleasure. And the next time he tried to work in a finger or two, they went in with ease. Not only that, the stretch felt so—so—

She came swiftly with a cry, her body bowing off of the mattress as pleasure rolled through her.

Ben removed himself from between her legs, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, victory shining in his eyes. Rey watched him, blissfully boneless but nowhere near satisfied.

She waited until Ben had laid back down beside her and the aftershocks had left her body before turning to look at him.

“Can I touch you now?” she asked, nodding down to where he still tented his pants.

He wavered. “You don’t have to,” he reminded her. 

Rey hummed. 

“Yeah, okay.” Ben lifted his hips, pulling down the offending garment before kicking them off entirely. Rey took a moment to admire how long and firm his body was. To appreciate that this man, who, when they first met, was covered from head to toe, was naked and on display just for her. 

He turned to look at her, chewing his swollen, overworked lips. “So how do you want to—”

Rey moved swiftly until she was on her knees above him, straddling his hips.

“Rey. Wait,” Ben cautioned, grabbing her thighs to keep her in place when he realized her intention.

“What?” She asked, putting her hands on his chest. “Don’t you want to?”

“Yes, _I_ want to,” he reassured her. “I just want _you_ to be sure. You were dreading it an hour ago.”

“I was not _dreading_ it!”

“But you were nervous.”

“First time jitters.”

“If this is just because I said I couldn't fit my—” 

“Shhh.” Rey put her hand over his mouth—lovingly of course. “Ben looks at me. _Really_ _look_.”

He did. Not just where they were at in a physical way, but at her through the bond—beyond her surface lustful state. She couldn’t be entirely sure what he’d gleaned. Whatever it was that he saw in her allowed him to relaxed underneath her.

“Do you want to do this?” She asked again. Just to be absolutely sure.

“Yes.”

Rey took a moment to lean over and kiss him, soft and languid, before she reached between their bodies and aligned him with her entrance. Once they were slotted together she lowered herself carefully, aware that Ben would be extra wary of trying this again if she foolishly hurt herself by being hasty. 

She was incredibly wet from her orgasm but that also made that part of her overly sensitive. This worked in her favor as her body gave around his intrusion, the slow slide delightful even if the space was a bit cramped. 

It took several moments of effort but finally Rey was sitting fully on his hips. She opened her eyes—unaware until that moment that she had closed them in her concentration—to find Ben watching her intently, his mouth hanging open in awe.

“You’re quiet,” she observed.

“I’m hoping you’re not expecting to do this for long.”

Oh. Rey looked to the bond and she could see that he was barely holding himself together. 

Rey nodded, letting him know that she understood, and began to roll her hips, her hands on his chest.

Ben groaned with the motion. “You’re perfect.” 

“Ben,” Rey sighed. “Focus.”

“I am focused,” he argued, his eyes roaming down her body to stop on the place where they were connected physically. “I’m a little too focused.”

Rey reached for his chin, tilting his face up. “Focus on me.”

“How could I focus on anything else—fuck. Rey.” With that nearly incoherent sentence he moved his hand to roughly thumb over her clit.

“Oh.” Maybe he was right: this wouldn’t last long.

Words were a little much for either of them after that as they moved together to a primal rhythm.

When another orgasm took hold of her, the last shred of Ben’s control fled him. He grabbed her hips and lifted her off of him, only to guide her back down. Rey allowed him to move her body in the way he needed; clinging to his arms for a hold. Finally he pulled her down and held her there as he finally allowed his own orgasm to release.

Rey collapsed on top of him ungracefully and Ben brought his arms around her. They were sweaty and still breathing too hard and she could feel his heart beating against his ribs. Beating for her.

“Padme wants us to get married on Naboo,” Ben blurted, unexpectedly. His breath was still uneven and the bond was a static elation. “While we’re here.”

Rey raised her head enough to blink down at him. “Are you asking me to marry you or is Padme?”

Ben snorted and squeezed her to his chest. “I am,” he assured her. “You don’t have to give an answer. I just wanted you to know that it’s an option.”

Rey hummed. They were still so new at this. Should they marry so quickly? Shouldn’t he want his mother there? Shouldn’t she want her friends in attendance? Chewie? Would it be better to go home already committed? Would that help ease Finn and the rest into the idea of Rey and Ben as a pair? Would it even be legal if they were in the past? 

These were questions for another time. Questions for after a shower and a change of clothes and a nights rest at Ben’s side. 

“Can I think about it?”

* * *

 

_It’s a warm summer day. The suns are high in the sky as they survey the market; their heat on the threshold of oppressive. Rey can feel sweat start to bead on her skin from their intensity._

_She won’t let the heat ruin her day. She’s on a mission. She’s looking for… She’s looking to buy oil…or bread…or herbs… She isn’t exactly sure what she’s there for. She just knows that whatever she’d been sent here to find is detrimental to the dish that’s being prepared._

_Rey knows that she doesn’t know what she’s looking for. She’s never cooked a meal before. She just likes the idea of home cooked meals. And this is what she imagines them to be. Essential ingredients._

_The market isn’t too crowded but there’s a pleasing variety of vendors for as far as she can see._

_There’s a tiny hand clutching her own._

_It’s a girl. She’s a plump child; well fed and healthy—cared for. Rey’s not familiar enough with children to gauge her age. Maybe seven? Perhaps a short ten? She’s got dark hair that’s been pulled up into two buns, and when she looks up at Rey she has familiar, dark eyes._

_And Rey knows, in the way one does, that this is her daughter and that her looks favor her father’s. And she decides that the girl’s name is Hana._

_“What about this?” Rey asks, picking up some kind of root vegetable from a stall and holding it up for Hana’s inspection._

_“No,” she tells Rey with great authority. “That’s not it. Let’s keep looking.”_

_Rey sighs and returns the vegetable to its place on the table in front of them._

_It’s getting very hot. She doesn’t like the heat, not really. It reminds her too much of a place she’d rather forget. Or not forget, exactly. More so, that it reminds her of being stuck and she never wants to be stuck again._

_Besides, it can’t be good to keep a child under the suns. Surely a good mother would consider her daughter’s pale (unmarked by sun spots or scars or calluses) skin. She wouldn’t want her daughter to burn. Burns from sun exposure turn into blisters that burst and ooze and can get infected if a person doesn’t know how to treat them—_

_How to prevent them—_

_Isn’t cared for—_

_Rey cares for her daughter. Rey is a good mother. Good mothers should be firm where it is called for._

_“No, we should go. It’s too hot.”_

_Hana turns her large dark eyes up to Rey, who can’t read the expression on her face._

_“But if we don’t get the right ingredients, the meal will not come together,” she points out. Rey’s heart sinks at the reminder. “It will be ruined.”_

_Rey considers. She wants the meal to be perfect. Ben, who is waiting for them at home, wants the meal to be perfect._

_Is it her imagination or is her daughter’s face turning red already?_

_“Ben will understand,” Rey tells her daughter, whose shoulder’s fall in disappointment. “We need to go home.”_

_The girl tries to argue again but Rey doesn’t listen. She has made up her mind. They leave the market and start down a pleasant path. The path that leads to home._

_The heat of the suns follow them._

_It’s a nice walk, Rey thinks, despite their failure at the market. The path is surrounded by lush, dense forests on either side. The green of their leaves is vibrant as they sway in the slightest of breezes—so slight that Rey can’t even feel it past the heat of the suns—their leaves whispering secrets against one another._

_Her hand is squeezed. She looks down._

_“I’m hot.” Hana announces. “Let’s walk through the forest.”_

_Rey wants to be a good mother, but she also wants to be well-liked, so she allows it. Good mothers are yielding where they can be. It isn’t that much of a concession anyway, she would much rather get home through the forest and the trees offer a fair amount of shade._

_They leave the path._

_However, once in the forest Hana clings to Rey’s hand, as if fearful. She keeps glancing behind them, as if they’re being followed. But Rey can only hear the crunch of dried leaves crushed by their footfalls. And when she looks back she cannot see anyone._

_“What’s wrong?” Rey finally asks, when she notices that the girl’s feet are dragging, her slow steps impeding their progress. “We’re almost home.”_

_Perhaps they weren’t a moment ago but they were now, because Rey said so. She can see the homestead through the trees. They were so close._

_“We should stay in the forest where you won’t be seen.”_

_“We can’t stay in the forest forever,” Rey argues. “Ben will wonder where we are.”_

_The girl looks up her, her expression too grave for a child. “Do you imagine he’s waiting for you? That’s not good.”_

_Rey looks at the girl curiously. She swears the child looks more like her every passing day. She’s skinny and loose limbed, with her brown hair pulled back into three buns. She looks up at Rey with sad, weary, hazel eyes._

_“He’s watching.”_

_Rey laughs. “No one’s watching us. We’re alone.”_

_“You’re not alone.”_

_“I know.” How funny that she would say that. Rey taps the girl on the nose playfully. “You’re here.”_

_“Rey. You need to wake up. It isn’t safe here.”_

_“Aren’t you supposed to call me mum, or something?” She’s pretty sure that’s how it works. Is she wrong?_

_“This isn’t a game anymore.”_

_Rey blinks at the girl in confusion and between one blink and the next she changes from a girl into a copy of Rey._

_Rey takes a step back, the abrupt change taking her by surprise and hurting her, a bit. She’d liked the idea of being a mother; of being settled already. Of living her own ideal future. Like living a dream._

_“This isn’t real,” Rey said. “Is it?”_

_“The danger is real enough,” her copy argued. “You should wake up now. Whatever you do:_ Don’t take him home _.”_

_With Rey’s next blink the other was gone and Rey was alone in this place—in this dream._

_But she wasn’t. The other had told her not to take him home. Who had she been referring to? Rey had thought, when she was still unaware that she was dreaming, that Ben was waiting for them._

_She looked through the trees at the squat domed structure in the clearing. It looked innocent enough there was a garden where flowers bloomed and a pond that she was sure was full of critters and a garage where they kept their speeder safely tucked away from any thieves. It looked ideal. It looked straight out of a dream._

_Because it was, Rey reminded herself._

_Which begged the question: If it wasn’t Ben who was waiting for her, then who was?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do we think is waiting for Rey??? Is it super obvious??


End file.
